


The Light of Seven Stars: Brienne

by NeCophenhagen



Series: The Light of Seven Stars [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Braime Bunch, Childbirth, F/M, Family, Feelings, Growing Up, Jaime and Brienne have seven children, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), POV Brienne of Tarth, Parenthood, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon Fix-It, old secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-06-29 14:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 66,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19831792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeCophenhagen/pseuds/NeCophenhagen
Summary: Basically the events take place after the last episode of last season, and my story is almost fully based on TV show characters, plot lines and twists.Now I should say that (and for obviouse reasons) nobody hates last episodes more than me.This work is like a fix-it try, but, being masochistic as I am, I preferred to know the endgame fully and only then I've started to fix it totally. For me it was like an emerge from the bottom.This story is about big and happy family, my version of so-called Braime Bunch, or Seven Kids of Jaime and Brienne. I liked them before I even started to write down all that. I've selected the names and personalities, but I needed a plot to combine all together in a readable text.So, that is the quick plot summary: after many happy years on Tarth Jaime suddenly has to discover the true price of his past mistakes.He will find a real redemption (not like at a show!final). He will.Both part will consist of several chapters. I don't finish it yet, so I am sorry if I will make readers to wait a bit. I promise I will finish it anyway. This is my remedy for the post-season damage.





	1. Red cloak

**Author's Note:**

> This is the 2nd part of the story. I must warn that it also starts with several flashbacks, but mostly just to enlight some obscure moments from the past.  
> This part has more graphic scenes and is more... I would say, cruel in any meaning. Also, the love scenes are more detailed (because I love to write them from woman's POV). So, there are 2 reasons why I had to change the rating to Explicit.
> 
> Again thank you all for your incredible supporting, and please forgive me for my mistakes.

Brienne Lannister, the daughter of Tarth, lived several different lives. Strangely, the happiest one began in a dark room that smelled of rotten flesh, damp and ashes.

It could be said that it began earlier, ten moons earlier, in a broad bed, covered with furry skins, amid the smells of melting snow, flame and smoke, and bad wine, the remnants of which they feasted on in Winterfell.

But why deceive ourselves, it was only the first step, and, most likely, it would remain a huge mistake. And the spring winds, blowing soon, took away all her hopes of that time and turned them into rain and mud.

The mud, oily and sticky, she remembered most of all - in it their horses limped, and the carts of refugees, which they’ve started to meet far before King’s Landing, almost drowned. The hem of her dress was covered with a crust of dirt, as her cloak, boots, and legs up to her knees, and her scabbard. More than anything, she wanted two things back then: to get off the horse and, finally, to wash.

It was painful for her to ride, which no one had ever known, because, well, she was young and strong, and sullen, and stubborn, and did not want to slow down or admit that she was doing something wrong. 

Her bosom ached, healing and the blood flowed either in soft, dark clots or in a thin bright scarlet trickle. When she sat down to pee, her stomach twisted in acute pain, and as soon as she got into the saddle, any movement of a horse under her gave a punch which was aimed right into a groin but ended in her very throat.

Why did she not say anything to Podrick? She felt too self-conscious to acquaint him to such womanly trifles. She was a knight for him, not a sister or a lady, and the fact that he had already helped her on a birth-giving bed made everything just more complicated and shameful.

And yet, before reaching the city gate, she dismounted and went forward, holding the horse by the bridle.

\- My lady? Ser? - Podrick turned around in surprise.

\- I can’t ride anymore, - she said guiltily. - I'm very tired. And in fact, there are only a few miles to the gate.

He must have understood nothing, but was quick to repeat her gesture. And so, quite ingloriously, they entered the city, two travelers covered with mud, dust, and sweat. She had already happened to enter here ingloriously and in her most repulsive form. True, then the city lived its normal, colorful and stormy life, and now lay in ruins.

Back then Jaime Lannister simply pushed her away with his tired and cold gaze, and suddenly she understood everything, understood to the very end that there would be nothing and nothing would save her.   
He hurried to his sister, and there were no other goals or other issues for him anymore.   
Now, when she felt his absence like a hole in her heart, like darkness, in which the evil winds of spring whistled, Brienne at least was not alone.

The warmth of her son on her chest, the weight of his small body were like a talisman, otherwise, those winds would have dragged her soul with them.

She immediately and deeply fell in love with this baby, her love was huge and all-forgiving, and so stupidly gentle, so ... maiden. She had to learn everything from her own mistakes and almost completely on her own: how to hold him, how to breastfeed him, how to change diapers, how to wipe his wet bum, how to give him water, how to listen to his squeak and understand what he needed. How to hide him on her chest and protect him from every terror in the world. And the world always was so big and so full of terrible things…

Podrick Payne, of course, tried to help with all his might, but, in fact, he knew even less about newborns than she, who grew up without younger brothers and sisters, and never knew any women's affairs, except, perhaps, a stupid duty of hiding monthly blood and wearing precious dresses (and she had rejected this obligation a long time ago).

Oddly enough, the only one who asked the most important question before this journey was Sansa Stark. Sitting at a large table in her bedroom, she inquired directly when everything became too obvious, and Brienne could no longer hide her belly and rumors that were crawling all over Winterfell turned into firm (and astounded) confidence.

\- Why didn't you drink moon tea?

Brienne felt herself blushing. 

\- Perhaps, - she said softly, - I should have.  
\- No, - Sansa retorted quickly. - No, I'm not talking about this and no, you should not.

Brienne did not know what to answer. Sansa claimed calmly:

\- This world stinks. It smells of death and pain. I would not want to bring a child into it.

\- It's too late now, - Brienne said, trying to reconcile herself with the thought. - Anyway, I'm late. I use to be.

She always considered herself slow and stupid. It seems that life should have taught her that this is not true. Alas, no. People around her saw a hefty broad and most often concluded that she was just as cumbersome and timid as a fattened mare ... or something like that.

She sometimes managed to take advantage of this and outwit them, using her speed and strength, but deep down she lived with this conviction.   
Brienne Tarth. Silly, slow, delayed mare. Jaime adored teasing her in the first days of their journey, and what especially encouraged him, is how she always hesitated to answer, searched for suitable words and did not find. 

And if she answered something, it used to be either rude or stupid ... Or both. It angered him and amused him at the same time.

\- Everything will be fine, - Sansa muttered, seeing how upset Brienne was. Brienne started sorting absently through the scraps of cloth scattered on the table. - I promise you, that everything will be fine. Any decision of yours would be right. And in any case, now that you are here, with us...

She did not finish. Even then, Sansa began to suspect that Brienne was plotting to escape. Sansa was a brilliantly clever young woman and by the day of Bienne’s departure, she was perfectly assured. 

\- I wonder if it's a boy or a girl, - Sansa tried gaily to change the unpleasant topic.  
\- If a daughter is born, I only hope that she will not inherit this ugly face, - Brienne murmured.

Sansa with a noise tossed her sewing to the table. She walked over to Brienne and cupped her face with her hands.

\- Listen to me. Enough of this nonsense. I don't want to hear this anymore. You are not ugly. You're beautiful. You just don't know it. You are like a ray of sunshine in the spring or the first flower under the snow. Timid. Unsure. But you should never again consider yourself ugly, Brienne. You are the most beautiful person I've ever seen.

\- This is wrong, and yet I ...

\- You are beautiful, - Sansa repeated stubbornly, pushing gently a strand of hair from her cheekbone. - Your son will be handsome and strong and the daughter will be the most beautiful girl in all Kingdoms. And he is just ... just ... fucking faithless Lannister. He does not deserve you. If you drank tea, I would understand. But you chose a different path, and you should know - I will always be there for you. The North will always be on your side.

The prison guard consisted mainly of Unsullied, but there were several Dothraki among them. One of them, a handsome, tall man with a tenacious gaze, recognized her. His name was Hosho, he wore a long braid almost to his waist, and behaved, unlike the others, quite friendly. At the very least, he spoke to her, seeing how she was shifting from one foot to the other near the door of the locked dungeon.

\- You, - he said, looking Brienne up and down, - why did you come? Have you come to the one-handed?

She stared at him, head up. What did she have now, except for this stupid pride?

\- Yes. Let me through. 

\- Why did you come? - He repeated gloomily. - You were a good warrior, you saved many and even a few of ours.  
\- He too.  
\- He is one-armed, and he will die anyway. Is this his enta? - Hosho showed with his chin at the bundle, tied to her chest crosswise by a long scarf.  
\- This is my child, - she said stubbornly.  
\- This is his,- Dothraki nodded affirmatively. – He mounted you and maybe for the good, you are a strong woman, strong, brave and decent. Though I think someone more powerful and heavy should have seed you.

She stared at him indignantly, trying not to snap.

\- Well, go away from here and rejoice that amid death you can carry a little bit of the living. He is not for you. He is a bad man. He is a traitor. He is sorf. You are a good woman. One-armed cannot be saved. When Khaleesi was alive, he begged her to execute him. And we will do that for her and justice. But you have to live. 

\- I'm not going anywhere, - Brienne pulled the Oathkeeper out of its sheath.

\- What, are you going to fight with a child sucking your tit?

Steel began to ring, and Hosho grinned, either approvingly, or just surprised. He croaked something, probably very crude, in his language. He grabbed his arrakh, and maybe a lot of unpleasant things would have followed, but at that moment the voice of Gray Worm sounded from the gallery.

\- Enough. Let her in. It will be the best torture for him.

The door was unlocked, and then they pushed Brienne into a dark, damp cell, and for some time her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light. 

The narrow windows under the very ceiling barely let in a pitiful light, and a handful of gray ash poured onto the floor. Gray Worm remained standing in the doorway.

\- Hey, Lannister. They came to you.

There was silence for a while, and then a voice, weak and cracked, spoke:

\- Do not need anyone.

Hosho behind her back said:

\- See, stupid woman?

The baby woke up and wimped, demanding the milk. She pressed him tighter, but Podrick was determined only to eat, and not at all to listen to the bickering of the guards with his raffish mother. These meowing sounds had been heard by the captive.

Something dark stirred in the corner.  
Jaime lay on the floor, stretched out and barely moving. His eyes glowed feverishly, large drops of sweat covered his forehead. He has been smelled of old feces and something sweet, disgusting. She knew that smell. It was rotted human flesh.

Brienne knelt in front of him. He turned his head and stared at her face with a strange, dreary and greedy expression, and then turned his eyes to the bundle at her chest.

She carefully raised the child so that he could see him. For a few seconds, it seemed to her that nothing had changed in the expression of his face, and then he parted his dry lips and said:

\- Mine.

It was not at all a question, and lately, remembering that day, she has always felt gratitude for he had never doubted her, never humiliated her, never even contemplated the dirty possibilities. 

Podrick whimpered cautiously, but now he became interested in the captive's face and pulled his awkward, plump hands towards him.

Jaime with difficulty raised his dust-covered palm, stretched out to the child timidly and carefully, and Podrick suddenly, being at the age of thoughtless gaiety, slapped on it with his tiny fingers.

Brienne watched the green eyes grow wet. The tear slowly crept over the dirty cheek. She wanted to cry too.

\- Forgive me, - was all that Jaime said.

For a while, they looked at each other in silence. Podrick kicked his feet in anticipation of dinner, Jaime blinked, trying to get rid of tears, and Brienne did not know what to say.

\- I did not think to end be like this. - He looked up at the ceiling as if he was hurt to look at Podrick and Brienne. - I didn't want that.

\- What? A child?

He did not answer.  
Then he asked:

\- Is it a boy or a girl?  
\- The boy. I named him Podrick.

Jaime chuckled, and she suddenly wanted to say something, to object to him, although she did not understand why.

\- Jaime… I will not force you to father him. He is my only.  
\- Not yours only, - Jaime snapped quickly, and anger appeared in his voice. - To make children, two are needed. The woman herself can not just give a baby. Though you were innocent, and I had to teach you everything, but you could know at least that, wench.

Podrick suddenly began to cry, perhaps catching this acid irritation in his father’s voice, and Brienne started to rock him. She unlaced her tunic and pulled out her breast. Podrick whimpered, but soon, reassured, he pressed against her and, pleasured, even closed his eyes.

She looked up and stumbled upon Jaime’s strangely calm and tender gaze.

\- What happened to you? - She asked trying to distract him. Though she had no much choice nursing a newborn child everywhere and at every needed moment, she felt slightly embarrassed knowing he sees her in such an intimate and vulnerable position.

\- Didn't they tell you yet?

Of course, in the most general terms, she already knew.

\- The roof of the Red Keep collapsed under the blows. Probably, it was one of the last attacks of the insane Dragon Queen. We were in Maegor's Holdfast. The stones shattered my head and smashed my leg. When Tyrion found us, everything was ... you can consider that it was over.

\- But you've survived, - she said softly.

\- I'd rather not.  
\- Have you really aspired to this?  
\- By the time the sky started to throw stones at us, I was already half dead. I had to fight Euron Greyjoy. He pierced me ... it seems in several places. Therefore, yes, Brienne, it was precisely peace that I wanted at that moment, as the sky crushed. I wanted to close my eyes and forget about everything I did. Everything she did. 

\- You came back to protect her.

\- You knew it will be like this long before the siege of King's Landing, - he snapped coldly.

\- And you did your duty. You've still had your honor.

He looked at her again with that long, piercing gaze. A sad sneer appeared in his voice.

\- I did everything I could. I made all the mistakes I was capable of. And you, I see, still love to chat about my fucking honor. Oh, sweet and naive Brienne ...

\- What happened next?

\- I do not remember clearly. I woke up in a cart carrying me around the city, and my brother walked beside. I remember how badly its wheels creaked as if they were cutting me with a knife in my ear. Tyrion sought permission from the Queen to bury us in Lannisport. He hired some peasant from the outskirts to escort our bodies. Paid him with my golden hand… He pulled us out, then somewhere he got a cart and an old nag and put us, two, side by side, hiding with some kind of blankets ... None of the Lannister died so ingloriously, although we had all sorts of achievements in this regard. If you need an example, my father met his end sitting on a chamber pot. Well… When I opened my eyes, the sky swayed over me, and the stones no longer fell from above. The ash was circling in it.

\- But, Jaime… Why did you surrender to the Queen's mercy?

\- Did I have a choice? Should I've been fought or hide, or run away, or what? I had such a wound on the back of my head that you could stick your fingers in there and touch the broken bones. They 've just swum in the blood. Anyway, most of that time I’ve been unconscious. Tyrion insisted that in the prison where I was placed, some maester examined my wounds, but that was the last piece of the new Queen's mercy. And then my brother shared these walls with me. And then Daenerys died. And now the whole city is just waiting for the savages to start to judge and execute us all. I am waiting for this, too.

\- What happened to your sister?

Again, one long, sad and attentive look.   
Licking his lips, Jaime answered briefly:

\- She died that day. I am only survived.

The next morning she had to leave the child with Podrick Payne.

\- Where is the baby? - Jaime asked, without even greeting her.  
\- With his namesake. I had to leave him because I had to carry heavy things, - she pointed to the bags, which she dragged along with her.   
\- What for?  
\- Here is the water, food, sheets, clean clothes, and something that will help you...  
\- You shouldn't have left my child.

She stared at him, eyebrows raised.

\- "Your".

He grinned.

\- Forgive me... He is yours, too. The next time you look for a man, I implore you, do not choose such a shithead like me.

\- Why do you think so?  
\- Didn’t you understand yet?  
\- I do not consider you a scoundrel...  
\- I'm not talking about that, Brienne. I'm dying. Do you smell this? It is even worse than when they cut off my hand. And we no longer have all mighty Qyburn in healers.

She knelt beside him.

\- May I take a look at it?

He laughed nervously.

\- At your service, Ser Brienne. Just be careful not to vomit on my chest.

When Brienne lifted the blanket that covered him to the waist, the smell hit her face so hard that she recoiled. His leg was twisted in several places, and through the ulcers and torn scraps of the skin, one could see deep wounds. The knee was crushed and, apparently, it healed and began to rot again several times.

Brienne gripped her mouth and nose with her palm and reached for the water flask.

\- Don't move, - she asked.

She washed his wounds carefully, and all this time Jaime only hissed and shuddered.

\- Your leg is broken, and the bones do not grow together because they are fragmented ... but the flesh has not rotted off quite, - she finally told him, throwing off the bloody rags and wiping her forehead.

\- A little misfortune, eh? - He uttered, trying to wink at her.  
\- Pardon me? - She frowned.  
\- You once called my severed hand a misfortune. You said that - Jaime raised his eyes to the ceiling, - that I "only tasted a little bit of real life, in which people are being robbed of everything, and I'm already whining like a bloody woman".

She shrugged. Mayhap, Jaime Lannister will not shut up even moving right into another world, but for the dying today, he was somehow too talkative.

\- You surely will not die today, - she said with an assumed coldness. - I will ask the soldiers to heat the wine and I will wash the wounds so that they will not start to inflame again. Besides, I brought some of the ointment. Podrick traded it for our food.

\- How stupid, - Jaime put in. - You need to eat properly. You're breastfeeding now. Do not spend your food, wench. Especially for such a dubious undertaking, as my healing. And whoever told you that I want to be healed?

Brienne wanted to offer him poppy milk and no longer listen to his stupid remarks, but she remembered that he really hated this remedy. 

Gods, how could she ever surrender to this chirping self-centered smart aleck? How did she have the patience to listen to it all the whole month, day after day?

She may have been amused by this thought while she was pulling food out of the bag and laid it out next to his bed because Jaime suddenly called out to her:

\- Hey. Brienne. Why are you smiling?

Startled, as if he had caught her for something really indecent, she froze.

\- No, no, no. Don’t frown again, I beg you. It's all right. Honestly. Your smile and the little one are the only good things that I’ve seen in this chamber for all those long moons.

In the morning he became worse. Jaime lost his conscious and Brienne, sitting above him, unsuccessfully called him again and again. Oh, how much would she give now to hear at least one his stupid joke.

His pale face floated before her eyes, lifeless and calm. Crying, she touched his forehead and startled pulled her hand back - his skin was just burning. For several days together with Podrick Payne, they searched for the maester, trashed about the city desperately, and eventually, when they found the one who agreed to see the prisoner, they gave him almost all of their food supplies and the few handfuls of gold that they had left.

Maester did not give them big hope, but he gave some medicines. Brienne poured bitter potions into Jaime's slack mouth while Hosho, standing at the prison cell door, has clumsily cradled the little Podrick in his big arms. The tall Dothraki had some kind of soft spot about the children, or perhaps about Brienne. It was hard to determine.

\- I have ten children, - he told her once. - They and their mothers stayed there, in the Grass. Far from here. Very far. And you need to give birth to seven more.

\- One is enough for me, - she mumbled, embarrassed.

Besides, she wanted to say, I do not even have a husband, but such conventions did not bother the Dothraki at all.

\- Your cripple man will die soon, - Hosho said with disarming candor as she straightened. He noticed that she was crying, and, probably had some compassion for her. – But no you cry, woman. You will find yourself a better seeder.

However, the hopes of the Dothraki were not destined to come true. Soon the fever began to subside, and ten days later Jaime opened his eyes. He turned his head and examined Brienne with a close and condemning look.

\- What took you so long, wench?

She wanted to laugh.

\- What took YOU so long, Jaime? I was afraid that you would die...

He held a trembling hand across his forehead:

\- The Gods are not ready to accept me. Yes, and the Seventh Hell will not be particularly happy to see me. My father already rules there...

She sobbed and hugged him impetuously. The smell of decay has now been replaced by the smell of bitter potions, heated wine, and sweat. His prickly beard was scratching her cheeks and lips, but she felt so good, so calm around him. For a moment she seemed to have returned to those nights in Winterfell. 

Although all this was a wraith, a kind of self-deception, but in those days she was too weak to resist temptation. Brienne suddenly felt that he put his left hand on her neck and pressed her to him further.

\- You smell like spring, - Jaime whispered. - Please do not leave.

In those days the Dothrakis gradually began to leave the city, wandering somewhere - many of them sailed back across the sea or went to the Dornish steppes. 

Lannister’s people appeared in the prison guard, those who surrendered to the mercy of Khaleesi. They had no pleasant feelings for Jaime. The world for these people turned over on the day when their comrades were burned alive and there was no longer any previous oaths and previous loyalty.  
One of these soldiers, opening the door for her, did not lock it, and the sounds from the gallery easily penetrated the cell. It was heard, how his friend called out.

\- What is there?  
\- Nothing new. This hefty stupid sow. Hey, listen. Stand on the guard instead of me.  
\- You better keep it down. She might be ugly as hell, but she still holds a Lannister heir.  
\- Not an heir, it’s just a fucking bastard...

Jaime quickly and angrily rose on his elbow.

\- Shut your mouths, you, there! - He yelled furiously.

There was a panicked silence. As if by the old habit, they were clearly afraid of him.   
Then the door clanged shut. Jaime looked at Brienne with such an angry look that she involuntarily took a step back.

\- Don't you dare to listen to them, - he said. 

She sat down next to him. He could recline now, sitting, leaning his back against the wall. His bedsores began to heal, as did terrible wounds on his leg. Fresh skin tightened them, as if the spring sun, which shone brighter every day and penetrated even into this damp camera, made everything in this world new, fixed, fresh.

\- I brought some food, - she said, to calm his anger. - And I've never listened to that.

I've heard things worse, she thought. His eyes stopped on Podrick, and a gentle smile touched his lips.

\- Want to hold him? 

For some time he hesitated, obviously fearing his own awkwardness.

\- I will help, - she gently bent his healthy hand and put a bundle with a sniffing baby into it.

Jaime looked at him like at the greatest miracle. Podrick stirred, smacking his lips in anticipation of the milk - and opened his eyes in disappointment. But he saw Jaime and seemed incredibly amazed, and smiled, gazing upwards with his bright blue eyes.

\- Hey. My greetings, little knight. And what's your name? - Jaime muttered.

Brienne, laying out the spread, grumbled:

\- He is a baby in several moons and does not understand your questions, Jaime Lannister.

\- Oh yes, he understands everything. Look how smart your eyes are. Right? You have very clever eyes, Podrick. Blue, like your mother's... And the same beautiful.

She stared at him, forgetting to let go of the basket in her hands. Her cheeks flared.

\- Perhaps I should feed him.

Jaime regretfully gave the child away and, without taking his eyes off her face, said:

\- It is rumored that everything will end for me soon. They convene a great Council of all the great lords who remained. They will want, finally, to execute the Kingslayers. Now there are two of us... Quite a headway. Speaking of heads, meanwhile, they will possibly turn my brother from the half-man into a quarter man.

Brienne hastily looked away.

\- What is the matter, wench? You’ve never known how to lie and hide properly.  
\- I will also have to attend. Although there is a true lord on Tarth, and I am just an heiress... I did not want to, but...

Jaime smirked coldly.

\- Oh, that's how it is. Will you again speak in my defense? After all I did? After all I did to you?

\- I will.

He paused, clearly taken aback.

\- Do you think they will believe in me and believe your words? Again?

She said softly:

\- Whatever happens, I will always be on your side.

Jaime jerked visibly and his cold smirk quickly disappeared.

\- And I will always miss that. I will miss you even when… However, there is nothing there. I’ve already understood it.

Podrick ate and fell asleep, carelessly throwing back his fluffy white head, and Brienne laid him on a sheet spread out on the floor.

She began to lace her tunic, but Jaime suddenly stretched out his hand and touched her fingers and then her naked chest.

Like the ghosts of the past, these touches awakened in her both desire and sadness.

\- Don't hide, - he said hoarsely. - Let me see it.

\- Milk, - she muttered shyly.

His stiff thumb slid over her swollen nipple. Jaime picked up a drop and brought it to his lips.

\- What are you doing, Jaime?

His eyes were full of some kind of hazy, hot darkness. He blinked as if of waking up and finally took his finger off his tongue.

\- I want to remember. Or maybe I want to weigh which is a real heaven. I remember also another taste. It was so gentle and sweet too.

Brienne tried to look away. Her gaze slid over his breeches. He was obviously aroused. She felt herself flush to the roots of her hair.

\- You are not a maiden anymore, - he said with a desperate and unkind grin. - But you still have not forgotten how to blush. When you feel good, down there, you blush too. You become scarlet after pink. Like a flower that changes the color of its petals. I remember them. I remember the taste of your dew on them. What is strange, I’ve always been sure you taste heavenly. Even when we were not lovers yet. Turned out, I’ve been right all that time. Probably, some kind of magic forefeeling.

His eloquence, and even seasoned with this stupid gloom humor, as always, confused her.  
Brienne wanted to scream, run, cry - all at once. She rose to her feet and, trembling, went to the opposite wall. She pressed her forehead to the wet cold stones.

\- I apologize, - Jaime finally said. - I shouldn't have. I don't know what came over me. I must be very tired of being here alone, or...

\- Shut the fuck up, - she almost yelled at him. – Just keep silence for a moment! And I think I need to go.

Brienne stepped back to him and leaned toward the sleeping child, but he grabbed her by the elbow.

\- Please do not leave. 

She had to kneel again and leaned over to hug him. Perhaps it was wrong, but his words heated her up just like her own dark, recreant thoughts. 

She wanted to cuddle up to him and stay close and breathe his scent and listen to his breathing, and a thousand other things — all because her poor heart could not stop loving. I have no choice, she repeated to herself, again and again, I have no choice, there was no, has never been... and the warmth emanated from his skin, in which she was drowning, as if in a huge and gentle sea.

She touched her lips to his temple and tried to move away, but Jaime held her. His grip grew stronger while he was recovering, and steel was felt again in those stubborn fingers.

\- Tell me what you want, and I'll let you go.

Brienne loosed her hug.

\- I want you to stay alive, Jaime.

He grinned wryly.

\- And that's all?  
\- So that you can see your son grows up… And also I want to leave. I want to get out right now.  
\- Stubborn wench, - he mumbled, annoyed.

Then he reached out and kissed her. His lips were hard, his beard pricked, and her knees painfully rested on the floor stones, but all the same, Brienne's legs were weakened with desire. Her breeches were already wet and hot inside. Jaime let go of her elbow and cupped her neck. When the kiss ended, he pressed his forehead to hers.

\- Say it.

She silently disbanded the laces of her tunic. Jaime, without waiting for an invitation, put his hand between two pieces of cloth and clasped her breast. They've become bigger from milk, bigger and more sensitive. She exhaled, and he saw a grimace of pain running down her face. He opened his fingers. Then stroked carefully, with the greatest tenderness. Brienne hesitated a bit, and then, biting her lip, laid her palm on his groin. It was rigid and hot.

\- A while, - he muttered through clenched teeth, - I've been glad to see you for a while, but you didn’t dare to notice ... ah!  
Jaime caressed her breasts gently, almost weightless, and then out of sudden stopped and slid his fingers between her legs. He fiddled with the tied laces of her breeches, and the moment they weakened he put his hand between her thighs. Brienne felt simultaneously burning shame and keen joy. He smiled, carefully watching her face.

\- You're still so beautiful.

He tilted his head to his shoulder and smiled even wider. In the semi-darkness, a strip of his white as salt teeth flashed.

\- Say it at last, - he repeated.  
\- What?   
\- Tell me what you want.

Brienne closed her eyes and took a breath. Opening them, and without taking her eyes off the pupils that almost filled his eyes with smooth darkness, Brienne whispered:

\- I want your hands... on me. I want you to kiss me. And all that ... All that we did there in...

She faltered.

\- Everything we did back there at Winterfell, - he merciful finished for her. - Besides killing the wights. I am so glad, Ser Brienne, that our desires finally coincided.

A talkative idiot, she thought, leaning over to kiss him. Perhaps, under her lips, this beautiful mouth, finally, can be silent. Let it be for a moment. 

But the moments, by mutual and muted agreement, lasted and lasted.

Then there was a long fumbling, hoarse breathing, a ray of sun that touched his perfect chiseled cheekbone. His hair, dark golden. And silver stripes in them. His kisses covering her clavicle, breasts, nipples, and shoulders. His hand, moving between her legs, those long and hard fingers that opened her flesh. 

Once she was torn by childbirth and Brienne even vowed to herself never share a bed with a man again... But now she was not in bed, right? She was on her knees in front of Jaime, who could not even move, and they were surrounded by the darkness and the smell of damp and dust.

Jaime found the small swollen spot between her legs and fingered it gently, from top to bottom and again, and then circled slowly and carefully. His movements were perhaps too careful. Almost weightless, like the wings of a butterfly, they inflamed more than helped. She moaned and spread her legs wider, the edge of the tunic fell off her shoulder, and Jaime kissed her skin, tipped his tongue on some old scar. She wanted the touches of his fingers to become stronger, rougher, denser, more precisely - that he would find the very heart of the pleasure that accumulated in her and grew ripe, like some magic fruit... and it was a tease, retreating and returning.

Brienne Tarth, what are you doing. This voice in her thoughts came through the fog of desire, but she chased it away. Now that there was no way out, she suddenly thought, very clearly and with bitterness: perhaps I will never be able to repeat this. Maybe this is the last time.

\- I’m sorry I can't move and lean forward to kiss you there, - Jaime whispered. - I would get drunk on you like wine and mead, Brienne. Like spring water. Like the sun...

She, realizing what he was talking about, confusedly moved away. Between her legs, she was throbbing, and the excitement was still pounding from the groin into her belly, and butterflies flew from her belly right into her heart. It seemed that she just has to open her mouth wider - and these white moths would flutter out of her throat right into the darkness of the prison cell. 

So Brienne bent down, dismissed the laces and touched his bared flesh with her mouth. She remembered his taste, but to remember such things and to feel it anew is completely different. Salty. Full. Bittersweet. He groaned softly, clenching his teeth, and soon she felt that Jaime, like her, had reached to the point where the flesh was already trembling with anticipation and crying from frustration, and pulsing and living its own dark life.

Brienne lowered her breeches from her thighs and saddled him, not listening to his weak objections, mixed with deep sighs and hoarse moans. She sank, trying not to hurt his wounded leg. For several seconds he was looking straight into her eyes, with a completely sober and hard look.

\- Are you sure you want this?

She wrapped her arms around his neck so that she had a hold point that wouldn’t allow her to pin down his healing bones. Gods know, they've been hurt enough already.

\- And are you sure? - She whispered huskily, her lips touching his ear. His hard flesh had already parted her petals, as Jaime Lannister put it, quite poetical. He trembled, hugging her waist with a good hand. His other hand, crippled, was pressed to his chest and Brienne suddenly leaned over and quickly gave it a short but passionate kiss.

\- Now hold me, Jaime Lannister, - she warned when he flinched all over. - Hold me tight. Your legs should not be hurt.

He threw up his hips as an answer, and she pushed herself towards him, and his flesh plunged greedily into her, pushing apart, breaking her dignity, bringing a feeling of fullness and sweet delight. That malicious small spot that did not want to be satisfied with the waves of pleasure, and pushed them out of itself, and ached for them to be back, now rubbed itself on thick hair in Jaime's groin.

\- I can't. Listen, I… I can't... I won't last long, - he warned her. - Hey. Hey, come back for a moment. Listen to me. Brienne! Ah. Gods. Is it still... acceptable?

\- My moons have not yet… come… in order, - she uttered not without a struggle. She wanted to sway with pleasure, not listening to the voice of reason. - I breastfeed... Women say that ... Oh. Oh. That ... this can be done... Jaime!

He caught her rhythm, and soon they merged into this two-headed monster, which, as people say, comes to all lovers at night. Her mouth still had his taste, her breasts ached, milk was trickling from her nipples, her stomach was twisting with pleasure, his hand pressed her closer and closer, his lips slid along her neck. And when he threw out the seed, she forgot about everything and arched, letting go of his neck, and clamped her hand over her mouth. A cry ran between her fingers and it seemed to them that they both heard it, so loud and huge and so painfully silence.

When she left him, carrying Podrick on her chest, something still rang slightly in her head. Moisture dripped between her legs. As if to hide her shame, the rain started to pour.

For a few moments, Brienne stood under jets of warm water, clenching her fists. When she opened them, she saw that her short nails left deep red marks in her palms.

The next day, there was not a crumb of yesterday’s food left in Jaime’s cell. She smiled sadly.  
\- Finally, you've been properly tired and hungry. My father says, only lazy people do not want to eat...

He snorted. Showed her a bundle on his lap:

\- I traded it from my guards for all the food I had...

Brienne saw with amazement that he held a red, rather shabby, Lannister army cloak. Its edge was scorched a bit.

\- But why do you need this?

He stared up at her with an impenetrable expression.

\- I'm going to put it on you, wench.

She opened her mouth - and closed it. She always has been a slow thinker, after all.

Two days later, the soldiers succumbed to Jaime’s entreaties and fetched a small, old and terrified Septon. They were firmly convinced that the Kingslayer would soon be executed. Septon was firmly convinced that everything in that prison chamber was some kind of strange joke. However, he took his responsibilities bravely and respectfully.

Soon after, Tyrion Lannister appeared before the Council, where he received the place of the Hand instead of long-awaited execution. He, to some displeasure of those present, made a solemn oath to judge his brother by all laws and with all severity.

Another two moons later, Jaime came out of his prison cell. He learned to walk, limping terribly, relying on long wooden sticks.

The same night Brienne awoke to a nausea attack.  
She barely managed to jump out of their meager bed, which was spread out on the bare floor. Stepping over the sleeping husband and running past the little Podrick Lannister, who napped peacefully next to Jaime’s head, she rushed to the door.

She threw up right on the threshold.

That’s how the happiest life begins; she suddenly thought once, after many years have passed.  
With a vomit and passion, and a cloak scorched by dragon flame.


	2. Blue cloak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were always like this, wench, his voice said in her head. You are stubborn. You understand everything hardly. This just causes you more pain, more sorrow.

The world has become smaller since that day, she mused once. The world became smaller and seemed to move away from her, and she could now see it in its complete imperfection and insignificance.  
Sitting on the shore, under the piercing spring breeze, she aimlessly fingered some twigs, small stones, and shells, and the cold sand fell between her fingers. There was a time, it seemed to her that she could not take a breath if Jaime would die. But she continued to walk, talk, answer questions and even, Gods forgive her, smile.  
She remembered the day the ship went into the harbor. She kept speeding up until she almost ran, stumbling and ridiculously lifting the hem of her dress. The children noticed this and ran too, overtaking her, always swift-footed, always full of strength and young enthusiasm.  
She saw a star-embroidered cloak draped over the shoulders of an unfamiliar girl, and she stopped, rooted to the spot. The black hair of the stranger was loose on her shoulders, and her copper-yellow eyes looked straight at Brienne's face. Arthur appeared near her and said something to her, the girl slowly looked down. Next, to them, Podrick took his place. On his face, she could always read what he was thinking. He raised his hand, Sansa and Cat shouted something to him, but he did not smile, just stood at the side of the ship, and did not take away a heavy look from his mother.  
Then she saw Joanna, and felt a pang of relief, such a huge, as if an invisible bird of prey, which had hitherto held her heart with claws, finally opened them. Her daughter’s golden hair was hidden under the hood of a thick woolen cloak buttoned to the very throat. She had the Widow Wail on her belt.  
Then they went off the ramp and ran to her, and they said something and hugged her, and Joanna cried, but Brienne still did not understand what was happening.  
\- Where is your father? Where is Jaime? Where is he? - she turned to them in turn, and repeated it, repeated time after time, then pushed them away and rushed to the ship. And Podrick, unable to bear this scene, grabbed her firmly by the shoulders.  
\- No. No. Please, mother! Mama! Listen to us!  
And then the world stopped.  
How they walked back to the castle, and how she carried this bloodied bundle of Jaime’s clothes in her hands — all that remained after twenty years of her happiest life — Brienne could hardly remember.  
Probably, she even then behaved with dignity, as it befits a high-born lady getting such terrible news. She could be proud of herself if there was anything inside her mind that didn’t scream in pain and horror.  
She gave some orders, listened to the servants, answered something, nodded, nodded, nodded. Life in the castle, and with so many children, always requires something. People need to eat, drink, sleep and take a bath from the road. They need clothes, they need a clean bed. Their wounds need bandaging, their souls need the words of comfort. Younger children should not be forgotten, older children should not be mad with their grief, fatigue, and guilt. And there are soldiers to care for. And there are guests. They need to allocate rooms, and in their rooms, they need to have warmed fireplaces, clean water, fresh sheets, candles, fruits, wine, meat, and bread.  
She also had to say them encouraging words, and accept their condolences, and be polite, courteous, and pleasant. And no, Brienne, you can’t just fall in the middle of the dining hall and stay there, meaninglessly staring into emptiness and scaring off children and households.  
So she told herself, until, having finished with the main orders, she got to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, locked it and simply sat on the floor, unable to move. Her dry eyes watched aimlessly the windows and walls, and the huge master’s bed that still remembered his smell. His clean shirt lay on the side of the bed where he always slept. She ordered the maids to always put on clean clothes for him so that when he returned he could wash and change clothes immediately.  
Stupidly looking at this shirt, made of fine gray linen, Brienne suddenly squeezed her mouth with her hand and howled through her fingers. She used to know how to scream at the full throat when she was young, she wanted to yell like a knight in a battle cry, and she managed to do it well.  
But for two decades, she learned to scream in silence.  
She tore her fingers from her lips and doubled over. She was nauseous with this fucking scream. Her forehead touched the floor, and the cold emanated from the stones seemed to her so blessed, so necessary at the moment when she was burning from the inside.  
In the end, she laid her face down on the floor and screamed into the age-old stones of the castle, and then wept, and then just lay curled up, and the gray linen shirt still stayed before her eyes. I need to sew him a new one, she thought absently. He likes whites. White linen fabrics were brought from The Reach, they were certainly more expensive, but Jaime would like it...  
She closed her eyes, feeling as she was hit in the chest.  
You were always like this, wench, his voice said in her head. You are stubborn. You understand everything hardly. This just causes you more pain, more sorrow.  
But at least you are right, sweetling, I would like the white ones more.  
She felt that the tears started to run down her cheeks again, uncontrollably. Then someone scratched at the door.  
\- Mama? Are you here? There was… well, Sansa, it seems like she had a... fight with the twins. And we can't find Catelyn anywhere.  
Do you hear it, Brienne? Get up, hide your tears and help them - this was Jaime's voice again in her head.  
She got up and straightened her dress. She wiped her face with her palms, hastily smoothed her hair and opened the door.  
Since then, this secluded place on the far beach has remained the only place where she could stay alone. She just wanted to look at the sea, not thinking about anything special.  
Jaime’s voice in her head remained mocking and tender and kept telling her how strong she was, how she would cope… Both of them, Brienne, and her imaginary husband knew that there would be no way out.  
Turning over pebbles in the wet sand, she seemed to be looking at the world from the inside of a large glass cage. It would have been easier to finish everything, she sometimes thought, to enter into these cool waves and allow them to carry her away, to lull, to reassure.  
But there were always some reasons to wait. Endless quarrels Sansa had with her younger brothers. Her sensitivity had the opposite side — in grief, she became shy and nervous, like a frightened bird caught in snares. The dark sorrow of Joanna, who lost both her father and husband in one month. The twins, for the first time, seem to have begun to brawl among themselves. Funeral chores. Letters to the different ends of kingdoms. And sleepless nights, when, hugging a linen shirt, she cried into it like a child, till she began to choke.  
On this empty shore, she suddenly remembered how the four of them were walking here.  
Jaime called it “lady’s fete”, and he has never had any objection, obediently looking after the boys while Brienne and her three daughters had their walking time.  
Joanna was then about twelve years old. It was a hot summer day, one of those that is so nice to spend near the water, circling in the surf and breathing in salt sprays. They threw off their robes and shoes, and, remaining in their under gowns, giggling, ran after each other, and the waves stroked their feet and teased gently.  
Oh, that day was full of naïve happiness, of pure joy. Lace on their gowns, and tanned shoulders, and freckles, and laughing eyes, their golden braids, woven with blue and red ribbons in the wind. Their cute and stupid youthful songs, ringing over the shore. And the sun glares on the green water. And Sansa, who fed sea birds from her palm. And Joanna, who wove wreaths of algae. And Cat, who asked to twirl her around. Brienne remembered how she was twirling her on her stretching arms and remembered how trusting were her daughter’s small palms.  
When they were tired of chasing each other and splashing water, they lay down on the sand, and Joanna, combing Brienne's hair, quietly said:  
\- I wish it will be always like today.  
\- So it will, - Brienne gently assured her.  
Cat, as the most single-hearted and young of them, wanted to get even more warranties.  
\- And we will always love each other so?  
\- Yes, sweetling. I can’t love you more, girls, and yet I promise you I will.  
Sansa, as the tenderest of them and most susceptible, rushed into a hug, her weak thin arms circled Brienne’s big neck:  
\- And you and father will always be here?  
\- Of course, we will.  
It did not even occur to her how impudently she’d lied that day.  
Returning home from her lonely secret beach, she noticed Arthur standing in the western gallery. He was smiling, and this smile was cutting like a knife - in those moments he became so similar to his father. He smiled at the girl, whose black hair was now fancifully arranged and decorated with Sansa's golden crown combs. He said something to her, alternating his words with gestures, pointing at her and then at himself.  
Her name was long and hard to spell, and all they knew for sure was that it began with Dara-Shi, which, according to her explanation, meant “the gift of leaves”.  
Arthur called her just “Dara”.  
When she was rescued from nightmarish captivity, Dara hardly knew even ten words of a common language. She spoke a little Ibbenese and a bit of Dothraki, but mostly she was just afraid to speak. It was as if before she had been punished a lot and painfully even for trying to utter a word.  
But she studied, thanks to her youth years, fast mind and innate curiosity, with amazing speed. Well, and, of course, her teacher was patient and favor her.  
It was something wild, strange in her, mysterious, that attracted Arthur and fascinated him. It was hard to call her gentle or shy, and in those yellow eyes, there was always some kind of untamed fire. However, she was not cruel or embittered.  
Brienne even liked her. Mayhap, she felt a special sympathy for the guest because Dara was terribly ugly - at least, everyone thought so. Her flat face together with low round cheekbones, long slanting eyes, thick eyebrows, and oddly white skin were not the most charming in the world. She was pretty swift-handed and graceful though, she walked smoothly and quietly, always carrying her head high, and never took her eyes off people's face. She knew how to fight, but she could not handle swords or bows. Everything made of metal scared her. Dara preferred sharpened sticks and branches.  
Arthur soon began to consider himself a proficient on her people.  
\- They come from the Ifequevron Kingdom. In any case, they think of themselves as of the descendants, well, or a side branch. Dara is the king's daughter. By our standards, consider her a princess.  
\- She doesn't look like a princess, - Galladon said.  
\- Gods, and you, little one, how can you know?  
\- And in my opinion, it is very interesting. The daughter of the forest king is now our guest, - Sansa objected.  
Dara's people lived for centuries in the northern forests, alternately suffering from the raids and oppression of Dothraki and Ibbenese. They rather aimlessly wandered through huge and dark forests and lived in caves or ruins, so ancient that the ghosts of former kings roamed about them.  
It was a peaceful people, mainly engaged in small-scale fishing and wood carving. They carved out wooden toys, made amber and jade jewelry, hunted small animals. Brave or just greedy merchants sometimes traveled to their places. Forest people traded wild mead, berries, nuts, furs, and amber in exchange for other goods and food, but they did not know how to ride or forge metal.  
They seemed to know everything about trees. Some tribes even built their houses on tall cedars. From the words of Dara, Brienne had the impression that these forest people were not so peaceful by nature, with the strangers they were mostly gloomy and non-talkative. But surely they were isolated and preferred to stay like this. However, within tribes a feud and disputes almost did not happen.  
\- We love to roam alone, - Dara told Arthur. - We do not like to see a lot of people, and roads, and noise, and large tents. We don’t know how to war, we only know how to hide.  
She was caught by Dothraki and taken to New Ibbish, where she first saw the Wall and was amazed and terrified. None of the tribes of her father or others could even try to overcome it. The wall was built against Ifequevronian ghosts, and this fact made her upset, for her people used to trust and even worship them. In any case, the fear of the ghosts seemed to her unjustified and inappropriate.  
She served at first in some small fish tavern, but Dothraki soon sold her to the crew of the whaling ship. There the nightmarish life had begun.  
She was raped, beaten and hung upside down, and anyone passing by could hit her on the head or stomach and laugh at how funny she jerks while dying. However, she soon bored them. They resold her to a ship going to the southern waters, and the team used Dara for all kinds of entertainment.  
When the second prisoner was put in the hold next to her, Dara could not think well. She was laying on the floor, bloodied, half-conscious, cut by their knives, and waiting for her death. Joanna was the only one who took pity on her these days. She tried to water her dry lips, to wash off her blood and encourage her, but Dara barely responded, and did not understand her words.  
In the end, Joanna was taken away, and Dara was hung on the wall of the hold to play with for the last time. And then, probably, to be murdered or to be sold in the brothels. Luckily, these plans did not come true.  
Brienne nodded to Arthur and the forest princess when they noticed her. Both looked somewhere down, and Brienne followed their gaze. From the yard came the even, methodical knock of weapons. She saw Podrick and Joanna, they moved quickly and easily, Podrick struck, and Joanna blocked him with a wooden sword. Her hair was gathered into a braid, the scarlet scar around her neck seemed from afar a bizarre necklace. She was wearing a man’s dress: leather pants, high boots, a vest and a shirt with rolled-up sleeves. Brienne had to give her face the most neutral expression when she approached and stopped at a distance, watching the workout.  
\- Now take the Widow's Wail. It is heavier. You will feel the difference. Just let your hand get used to it, - Podrick said. Joanna slowly pulled the sword out of the scabbard on her belt. She lifted it and moved it from side to side, cutting the air.  
Podrick smiled encouragingly at her, and then he saw his mother.  
\- We've ... just decided to practice. Joanna asked me, - he said almost guiltily.  
\- You're doing quite well, - Brienne looked at her daughter. - But the Valyrian sword is the hardest thing you have known before. Because of its weight and poise, it has its temper, its own will. Do not unscrew the wrist like that; otherwise, it will pull out the whole your hand.  
Joanna, breathing heavily, looked at her. Her blue and serious eyes seemed bottomless and full of desperate sadness.  
\- Father told me to never surrender. To fight. It was the last words of him. He said that to me.  
\- I know. I understand…  
\- Are you angry, mama?  
\- Not at all.  
\- But you frowned when you saw his sword.  
\- Not because I'm angry, - Brienne carefully removed the unruly strand from Joanna's cheek. – And you have the right to own the sword; you are the daughter of Jaime Lannister. I worry about you, it’s true, but I believe in you as much as your father does… as he did.  
Joanna grimaced, blinked. And suddenly she turned to her brother and raised the sword high.  
\- Come on! - She shouted. – Hey, come on!  
Instantly, Podrick threw his arm up, and the Valyrian steel struck the old wooden sword. The blow was smeared and not enough to break, but the steel began to sing and rang, and Joanna began to attack, alternating blows with quick and predatory attacks to the sides. The sword tried to subordinate her to itself, Brienne saw it, it dragged the girl after itself as if drawing her hand, jerking from side to side and trying to throw her off, like a restive horse. But her knuckles were white, squeezing the hilt, and her face was flushed with anger and pain.  
Brienne thought that once, a long time ago, she entered her first real battle too, caused not by curiosity and innocence, but by this fury boiling in her chest.  
She turned and walked away, and behind her back, Podrick still shouted encouragingly, and Arthur, leaning over the railing, gave some advice.  
Her children grew up, and the time has come when their hearts filled with anger, and their fingers gripped the swords.  
Isn't it what she dreamed of, being young and inexperienced, imagining her marriage and future children?  
And why now something hurts in her chest seeing these scenes?  
And what did you imagine, Brienne, that the children would hide behind mama's skirt, or stick to your teat for up to twenty years, eating your milk? - Jaime asked poisonously in her head.  
You are disgusting, she thought with weak indignation. Just shut up.  
Where and who told him this story about poor Lady Arryn and her son, Brienne no longer remembered, but Jaime several times narrated that to his wife, each time cringing in disgust.  
\- I wish to forget it, but I can't, - he complained to her. – The image plunges me into melancholy and fear.  
For the man who was licking the drops of my breast milk from your fingers - she always thought when Jaime started this topic again - you look too melancholic and fearful.  
But she never dared to say this aloud.  
Now, however, Jaime settled in her head. And the real Jaime could not be compared to him on the part of inappropriate talkativeness. Besides, this Jaime had all her secret thoughts.  
\- Oh, I've always known you could tell something like that, - he said cheerfully. - You should have blurted that to me. That is witty. Brienne, that's damn witty!  
She was afraid to go crazy one day, afraid that the voice inside her head would never stop.  
And she was even more afraid that one day he would just disappear forever.  
Sansa sat on the carpet by the fireplace in an empty dining hall. Some fluffy lumps were moving in the basket next to her, and, coming closer, Brienne saw that Sansa was feeding the brood of blind kittens with a milk bottle wrapped in a rag.  
She leaned over and stroked one of the kittens, and Sansa smiled shyly at her, looking upwards. On her beautiful face disgusting bruise imbued with rainbow colors - the trace of the recent fight with the brothers.  
We now live differently, Brienne thought with a sigh.  
\- Did you have dinner?  
\- I didn't want to eat...  
\- Sansa!  
She looked at her mother with eyes wide with fright, but in her voice, a steel stubbornness appeared:  
\- Why only me can’t want to eat?! If anything, Cat has not been at our dinners for much longer.  
\- Because you are older than her, for example. And because everyone should eat. And every day. And not once a day. You feed the kittens, but you do not know this?  
\- These are my kittens. I have to feed them! They have no one else.  
Brienne grinned weakly.  
\- And you are my kitten, - she kissed the crown of her head. - Please eat before bedtime. Do not upset me... You are smarter than the younger ones, you are almost adult. Where is your sister?  
\- She waited all day in the harbors. The ship from the Iron Islands is back, and she was waiting for this nasty sea girl. Probably, now dyes her hair green. Why don't you forbid her?  
\- Theona is not nasty, you are just a bit jealous. Which is silly. Everybody needs a good friend. And no one in this family will forbid Cat to decorate herself as she pleases. As nobody will forbid you.  
\- No way. If I dye my braid in green, I will look like a mermaid. Ridiculous.  
\- As you please. Though you are already decorated with the bruise.  
\- Do not worry, mama. You should have seen Galladon.  
\- It hurts me that three of you fought. You are an adult smart girl, and they are boys, what could make you cross swords?  
\- I’m tired of their stupid words. They think they speak wisely and smart, like father, like uncle Tyrion, but they just sound like little morons.  
\- Gods. I don’t understand, what is going on. You loved their jokes before… And they loved your kindness and calmness. You have always been the most peaceful of us, Sansa. I was so proud of you.  
Sansa lowered her head.  
\- Could someone be saved by a peaceful temper?  
\- A lot of people, - Brienne seriously said. - Believe me, sweetling.  
Sansa stroked the sleeping kitten and laid it in the basket.  
\- Mama? Please ask Maester Thill if the news came from Winterfell ... Was there a note for me?  
Brienne again sighed heavily. In youth, all the worst troubles are mixed with the brightest happiness, so that you can not divide them. Does she not know this?  
Her daughters got their loving hearts from her, and now that is a question, is it a gift or a curse... It would be better to inherit the infinite Lannister's self-conceit. It is an iron shield to protect some gentle natures from the sufferings of love.  
Yes, and maybe from any other sufferings.  
She walked into the kitchen, hushed the tired maids out and hastily gathered some food on a tray and put the mugs of milk and warm herbal tea.  
There was a silence in Catelyn's room.  
Brienne pushed the door with her shoulder and saw Theona Greyjoy. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, while Cat was lying next to her, on her side, covered to the shoulders with a knitted cover.  
Her face even in a dream was angry and tired. Freckles and scars stood out even more brightly on pale skin. A shred of blue hair stuck over her forehead like a bird's tuft. Theona's narrow, weather-beaten palm lay on Catelyn's lean shoulder. She did not remove her hand even when Brienne appeared. She held her other hand up and pressed a finger to her lips.  
Brienne put the tray on a table covered with nautical charts and arrow fragments and blunted knives.  
\- She fell asleep, - Theona muttered in a low voice. - Long-time she cried, and then fell asleep.  
\- Let her sleep. I'm glad you came back. It was not possible to thank you properly before... You did everything right. Thanks to you, Joanna returned home.  
The girl's face softened a bit. She shrugged, turning away.  
\- My mother thinks I did the right thing too. And… Lady Brienne, I'm sorry Ser Jaime is dead. I am sorry that Catelyn is now so sad. I still think that I should be silent then... He would stay alive probably. But mother believes that it is terrible, is wrong to live not knowing where your daughter is.  
Brienne nodded carefully.  
\- Catelyn needs you. She has a difficult time now. Please. As far as your ship is in Tarth’s harbor, don't leave her alone, Theona.  
She felt very tired when she left her younger daughter’s room.  
All their troubles and experiences, large and small, from newborn kittens to training with a Valyrian sword, lay on their two shoulders before, and now they fell on her alone, and this aggravated her loneliness. There was one more difficult thing to do, and Brienne hesitated at the door of the twins' bedroom.  
You can do it, she thought. She was slightly frightened by the fact that now she hardly distinguished whose voice was inside her. Is it her own or her husband's?  
You can handle it.  
Brienne, no matter who tells it to you, you can handle it.  
Galladon was sitting on the floor, an open book on his lap and Gerion was lying on the bed, facing the wall. The room was quiet, only the log crackling in the fire was heard. Brienne saw through the window that the sun was slowly setting in gray and blue sunset clouds.  
\- There you are, - Galladon murmured in a dull voice.  
\- I told you she would come.  
Their long faces always seemed serious and even sad, which made an amazing contrast with their lively, witty and active nature. Brienne sat down on Galladon's bed.  
\- Are you going to tell me why do you provoke Sansa all the time? You brought her to the point that...  
Brienne reached out and grabbed Galladon's chin, turning his face to the light.  
\- You've got bruises all over your face. Sansa would not hurt a fly before.  
\- And I am, see, not a fly. Sansa takes everything to heart, - Galladon snapped. - Mind this; everything I said was just a guess. Right?  
Gerion did not answer him.  
\- And what did you tell her?  
\- That on the whaler that attacked Connington’s ship, the whole crew was Ibbenese. And that we may have embraced an Ibbenese spy here. And that sometimes love feelings prevent us from seeing the truth.  
Oh, Gods. Brienne did not know whether to laugh or cry.  
\- Ans was raised by the wildlings and Jon Snow. You knew that very well. You were only looking for an occasion to throw out your grief and anger. And for some reason, you have chosen Sansa as a target. Is it because of all the girls she seemed to you the most harmless? Catelyn would have put you on your place immediately.  
\- No, - Galladon said, sulkily. - And I did not expect you to believe me. Father always thought you are naive and kindhearted. You are from Tarth. Father said that everyone here thinks about people better than they are. You're not Lannister, are you?  
\- What are you talking about?! How dare you!  
She grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled to her, and suddenly, realizing what she was doing, she let go. Children like no one else can cause this bloody veil of anger before the parent's eyes.  
Galladon flopped on his bum; the book fell to the side.  
\- If the father were alive, he would not let you...  
Brienne jumped up and hung over him again, her rage rising and falling in some uncontrollable waves.  
\- He deliberately says this, mother, - the voice of Gerion came. - Leave him be. He is just waiting for you to shout or give him cuffs. He needs you to notice him.  
Galladon turned to his brother with a wicked and desperate smile.  
\- And now you're the smartest here, huh?  
Brienne sat down heavily on the bed.  
\- What is wrong with you...?  
She stumbled on her words, and suddenly tears began to pour out, uncontrollable and hot. She did not have time to cover her face and run out of the room, she just choked on them, choked and could not stop. The twins froze at the sight of her grief, it sobered and stunned them. Very carefully, Galladon rose from the floor and stepped towards her.  
\- Mama. Oh, why? Please, please...  
He embraced her, very awkwardly. She buried her face in his skinny shoulder.  
\- Forgive me.  
Gerion, however, has not stirred for all this time. This alarmed her, and, wiping her tears, she turned to her younger son:  
\- Did something happen? Are you sick?  
\- He got sick, - Galladon answered for him.  
\- Oh Gods, honey, what...  
\- Better not come near me, - Gerion muttered, and in his voice, she heard the pain and horror. Brienne, of course, approached and gently pulled his shoulder.  
His face was paler than usual, but she didn’t see a blush or a spot of rash. She touched his forehead and neck.  
\- Where does it hurt? What is hurting?  
\- Nothing. Do not listen to him.  
\- Open your mouth. Show me the tongue.  
\- Mama!  
She turned to Galladon.  
\- Explain to me what's going on?  
\- He has dreams.  
\- What?!  
\- He saw everything, the burning sea, and the hanged maiden. And much more. He thinks it is some kind of curse or madness, an illness.  
\- These are only nightmares.  
Gerion suddenly blurted:  
\- I saw father.  
\- But, Gerion, this…  
\- More precisely... I did not see him. A few weeks before they return. He came in here, and Galladon and I played ball. Sansa's birds circled over us. He walked through the rooms and could not find us. I knew that he was looking for us, and I began to look for him, and we could not see each other, we opened the doors, opened and opened and passed from room to room, and I heard his footsteps. And he heard mine. Something was dripping from his hand. I entered your bedroom and realized that he was in it. I saw his tracks. It was dripping blood and I was scared to death. Mama, I don't want to dream anymore. Do something, I pray you.  
She clutched his pale face in her palms. Gerion grabbed her wrist and squeezed so tightly that it hurt.  
\- I can't watch it anymore. Make them stop showing it. Make them leave me alone!  
\- Hush. Hush. These are just dreams. You were very upset by everything that happened to your sister, and then to your father…  
\- Do you hear what I'm saying?! - He shouted in her face. - I saw it before the ship returned! Are you deaf?! Are you dumb?!  
She recoiled.  
\- Don't talk to her like that! - Galladon yelled. - Shut your lousy maw!  
Brienne turned slowly toward him.  
\- Hey. Please calm down both. Gerion, listen to me carefully. Dreams can predict the future, especially if we already have a hint of something or are upset... but they can also deceive us. See what they brought you to. You quarrel with your brother and shout at me.  
\- I swear to you, I can't bear this anymore! - he grimaced, as if from anguish.  
\- Come here. Come to me.  
She hugged him. He was a thin and ungainly boy, and her heart, already restless, bursting with pity for him. She stroked his hair and kissed his temple.  
\- I'll never leave you.  
He impulsively hugged her, but then pulled back and looked at her with a long and strangely distant look, the look of a wise old man, not a boy.  
\- You will. I saw you. You were lying on the floor in a dark room, and snow was falling outside the window. You were covered in blood. You did not move. I saw this in my last dream.  
Brienne stared silently into his detached, empty face. The terror lurked on the bottom in these green eyes, making them dull and glassy.  
Luckily, this mortal silence was interrupted soon. The maid brought water for washing. Brienne sent her for warm tea and milk.  
\- Drink for the night and you will sleep better, - she told her son.  
\- Do you really believe that?  
She smoothed the naughty heap on his crown.  
\- Once I had a terrible dream. In this dream, I bit off and spit out my tongue. But it did not come true, as you see. However, it came true to some extent, I’ve... I spoke to someone and they did not believe me, so the dream only predicted this to me. It was an admonition, that I could not say anything, could not explain.  
\- It must have happened when Lady Sansa Stark turned her back on you at the roadside tavern, - Galladon said.  
The minds of her younger sons always have amazed her. They remembered everything they had ever been told in the smallest detail. Jaime often said that two other Lannisters, his father and Tyrion, were distinguished by the same tenacious memory.  
\- Yes, I could not convince her then. If you again see something frightening or incomprehensible in a dream, just tell me. The hardest thing is if there is no one to complain and no one to share your burden. Can you do that for me?  
Gerion nodded contritely.  
\- And I beg you, do not feud among yourselves. You are brothers, and you should always support each other.  
In the end, she managed to make them wash their faces, drink milk and put them in bed.  
When Brienne reached the door, Gerion called her:  
\- Mama? I saw something else. I can not explain it to you.  
\- As if you can do the rest, - the half-asleep Galladon growled.  
\- In my dream, someone raised a blue cloak of Tarth in front of me. I saw that it was cut in half, and on one part the suns remained and the moons were on another.  
Gerion bit his lip.  
\- When I tell it all, it sounds so stupid.  
\- Not stupid, no, - Brienne shook her head. - But rather, strange. Everything weird scares us. That’s why you feel so broken and confused. Just remember that we are here for you. Tomorrow. And always. Promise that you will tell me whatever you’ll have in a dream and that you will not become afraid of this anymore. We are together.  
When, at last, she returned to her room, the moon, huge and yellow, like a lemon, had already risen in the sky. The maids got a bath for her, this enormous copper tub kept her warm for a long time and now, looking at the shiny sides and the steam rising from the water, Brienne experienced a tide of relief and fatigue.  
She went to the bath, untied the laces on the corset as she walked, threw off her dress and boots, and, without removing her undershirt, stepped into the water. 

She sat down, leaning her head on the edge of the bath, feeling the lace of her shirts swaying in the warm water and touching her skin, like algae on the seabed.  
Brienne closed her eyes and exhaled carefully.  
Then she ran her wet palms through her hair and suddenly slipped and put her head under the water. Opening her eyes, she watched with some melancholy humility as a bubble of air slipped from her lips and rose upward. From under the water, the world seemed even more insignificant, twisted, dull and wrong.  
Exhaling the last portion of the air, she grabbed the edge of the bath and jerked herself up. Her heart pounded faster, a surge of mortal fear replaced by a short and painful joy. Water dripped from the tip of her nose, from her eyelashes and hair.  
Brienne remembered the hot summer evening. Jaime entered the bedroom, shedding his vest on the way. He had been bargaining all day with the merchants who had brought steel ingots for army forges and was quite out of sorts. Jaime raised his head and saw Brienne lying in this huge copper tub, and his anxious, tired face brightened slightly.  
\- Is there a place for me?  
\- Don't you dare, - she answered lazily.  
\- Yes, just move over. I'm your husband.  
\- As if this would make the bath bigger, - she snorted.  
He approached her and stroked her bare shoulder with bent fingers. Then his palm slid lower into the dark water.  
\- I remember seeing them in Harrenhall, and from then on it just stuck in my head.  
\- What?  
\- I wanted to see them through the water.  
\- You almost died then.  
\- Even dying, you can crave for beauty.  
\- Haven’t you called them "meager tits" once?  
\- Did I say so?  
\- Yes, and much more. “You're as ugly as you are boring,” - Brienne muttered with a weak smile.  
\- Oh, yes, I was so courteous then. Maybe I was just trying to delay the inevitable, sweetling.  
She snorted again. Without taking off his shirt and boots, he stepped into the bath and sat down opposite her. The water poured on the floor, and the small knock of drops sounded like rain.  
\- What the Hell are you doing!  
\- I just want to be with you. You always loved it when I sat next to you in the bath.  
She had to open her knees to fit his legs in the water. After long and tender wrangles and hints, and even rude vulgarity, she knelt and kissed him. His hand glided over her back and chest, caressed her buttocks and thighs. The water pounded on the floor, and Jaime’s shirt got wet and stuck to his skin, and Brienne kissed his nipples through it.  
They continued in bed, it was hot and wet, and when Jaime tore off his clothes, Brienne lay on her back and opened her legs shamelessly. His tongue wandered through her folds, delivering a long and keen pleasure, bright and thick and golden-transparent, like honey.  
The water began to cool, and Brienne came out of it, pulling her shirt over her head. For a few seconds, she stood, naked, looking at a large empty bed, not daring to budge.  
Her gaze fell on things folded in Jaime’s chair. The blood turned brown on them, almost black. Maybe if she touches it, it will fall off, as rust falls off the iron. Brienne stepped to the chair and knelt.  
They smelled of sea, spices, and blood. She hated this mixture. Hated and loved. This is all that remains, she thought again and again.  
The blue cloak lay at the bottom of the pile.  
\- In my dream, someone raised a blue cloak of Tarth in front of me. I saw that it was cut in half, and on one part the suns remained and the moons were on another.  
She lifted the Tarth cloak with her outstretched hands. The suns and the moons were stained with blood.  
The cloak was torn apart into two pieces.  
\- Well, finally, - Jamie's voice in her head laughed. - I thought you would never notice.


	3. Dancing with lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those who want to dance with lions should be ready to shed their blood and tears.

\- Ser Brienne. Lady Lannister, - the servant bowed to her, almost diving into the floor. - We are very glad to see you. Please, come in.  
Everyone is so kind to me, Brienne thought with a mixture of sadness and disgust. In the Red Keep, perhaps a lot has changed, but small people and courtiers - not at all. They sensed gold and power, as well as blood akin to gold and power over the miles around. Their sugary kindness stuck in teeth like Dornish sweets.  
The rooms smelled of flowers, and the city was preparing for some sort of regular celebration. In the early years of Bran the Broken rule the hills around the city were planted with fruit trees, and now every spring they turned the environs into a magnificent, lush garden. The pink and white foam of blooming apple trees, cherry trees, plums, and apricots made the city better. Outskirts, formerly consisting of piles of shacks among gutters and cesspools, have ceased to scare away by their very appearance.  
Brienne liked the smell of blooming apple trees, but on Tarth they smelled fresh and tender. And here, filled with heat, they smelled hard and fiercely.  
Tyrion jumped off the Hand's chair and quickly went to meet her.  
\- Brienne! Why not warned? But I'm so happy to see you. Are the children with you? Is Arthur, my brave boy, back?  
She had to bend down to take his palms in hers. His gaze slipped her from head to toes and appreciated everything. Her black dress, her neatly braided hair, her dry eyes.  
\- I'm alone. Arthur is still with his brothers and sisters. It is necessary... to settle something in Griffin's Roost.  
\- Ah! I've heard. Just say a word, and the Crown will send the troops of the best knights. Gendry is ready to help clarify the situation. Some of the lords in the Stormlands have become a bit insolent. Note, the more arrogance, the smaller the lord.  
He smiled, showing his sharp Lannister teeth. Brienne silently glanced at the chair across from his desk.  
\- Of course, - he realized, - please take a seat.  
Tyrion was right, the small lords, who even before had not been in a hurry to call themselves Connington's vassals, when receiving news of his death, completely ceased to serve any sort of decencies. She had to send detachments of soldiers from Tarth to the Roost, and then convene a council.  
They showed up with such faces as if Brienne was going to feed them with horseshit. She would have done it with pleasure, especially after listening to some of their “sentences”. Lord Swann, for example, a long-time widower, suggested, so be it, he takes Joanna as his wife, and provides the Roost with his excellent protection. Although now the rumors about her beauty were interspersed with rumors about her ugliness, about the terrible scar that had forever ruined her hopes of finding a worthy husband, this did not bother the contenders for the hand and heart.  
There were more sensible suggestions. In a way. To divide the lands of the Connington's, since now there is no one to control them. Or transfer lands to the strongest of the current vassals of Tarth, well, for example, to the one who gives the biggest troops for training.  
Brienne had to raise her voice, or rather, just yell, to no longer listen to this ugly nonsense.  
The Roost belongs to Ronell's widow and heiress, she said. Joanna Connington will take over as she chooses. Until then, she will appoint a steward from among the most loyal people. Those who wish to carve up the meat of a living bear risk their skins. Those who want to dance with lions should be ready to shed their blood and tears.  
Many more grunts and insults followed when they found out that Joanna wishes to appoint the Unsullied as the steward.  
In the end, Joanna got up and announced that she would arrive at the castle in the coming days. Brienne though her heart opposed such a decision, did not dare to argue with her daughter in the presence of the others.  
\- Thank you, Lord Tyrion, but we can handle ourselves. We are not in a war.  
\- Sometimes people need to feel the power, - he sat down opposite her and poured wine into two glasses prepared.  
\- My sons and soldiers of Tarth will deal with it.  
\- This I willingly believe, dear sister. So what brings you to us?  
She took the glass. She felt awkward under his gaze and lowered her eyes.  
\- I have no one else to tell this. I need you.  
Tyrion gently touched the wooden carved box that Brienne had ordered to deliver to him even before she entered.  
\- Is it what we are talking about? What is there?  
\- The things that they've sent to my ship in Volantis.  
He flinched.  
\- Oh, Gods. I know how hard it is for you ...  
\- Let's stop at this, - Brienne said dryly. - These are his clothes.  
She took the key from her neck and unlocked the box. Tyrion silently looked at her, as if expecting her to cry or do something stupid.  
\- Oh, I beg you. We have known each other for many years. I will not make scenes, - she said when he suddenly took a long sip of wine.  
\- I've never thought...  
\- That's exactly how people think now.  
\- But not me.  
\- Yes. Perhaps you have always been different.  
\- There’s no man like me. Only me.  
Brienne shuddered slightly when he quoted his brother.  
\- They brought it to the ship and declared him dead. True, all clothes are stained with blood. It soaked in very deeply, it’s not just a splash of blood, - Brienne said calmly. - Here was the dagger he fought. It was wiped, or, in any case, there was no blood on it... But it is not what worries me most. Now, look at that.  
She showed Tyrion a cloak ripped in half.  
He looked at her blankly. Gods, and this man sits in the chair of the Hand, she thought with annoyance. He seemed to read her thoughts.  
\- Please, sister, do not be angry. I do not understand what you are pointing at, but I am ready to listen...  
\- They've tied their cloaks when the children ran out through the window. Joanna and Arthur themselves tied these cloaks, tied them to the window bars. They remembered it very well because it was ... his idea. Jaime’s.  
\- That is interesting, - Tyrion dutifully nodded.  
He said nothing more, but this predatory and dry glitter appeared in his eyes.  
\- If the clothes that were sent to prove his death were on him, and in the battle, they were sprinkled with his blood, then where did his cloak come from? Did he untie it and put it on to keep fighting? Do not you find it strange?  
\- Maybe they just took it off themselves. When... when it's all over.  
\- They didn't take it down, they cut it down. This was done with a sword and by twisted fabric. See this mark? He did not wear a cloak. So, it was just put to these things. And there is too much blood on it for a cloak that just hung all this time on the window bars. Blood spots are everywhere. Like somebody wanted to show it. To make us believe.  
Tyrion was silent, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  
Brienne could not stand it:  
\- Tell me what you think! You are the cleverest in this city and, possibly, in the Kingdoms, the cleverest of the Lannisters.  
\- Brienne, why doesn't it occur to you that they only wanted to send all his belongings, all of them, to the ship as a sign of the end of hostility? After all, that's exactly what they said.  
\- I think someone wanted to portray everything as if he was dead, - she uttered quietly. - If they tricked us with a cloak, how could we know that the rest is not a hoax? Why not send the body?  
\- And what is the reason? I do not doubt that you have already thought about this.  
\- They will want a ransom. Someone may have found Jaime Lannister too valuable to kill. But they wanted to get rid of the rest, the children and the ship, so they've sent them back home. Now Jaime is left there alone. So they took the hostage and settle the rest.  
Tyrion sighed and finished his glass to the bottom.  
Brienne hesitated a bit and repeated after him. She felt her fingers tremble.  
\- Maybe. And it is also possible that you just cling to hope.  
\- Is there no smallest reason in my words? Look me at the eyes and say that, Lord Tyrion.  
\- There is, - he said, wrinkling as if from pain. - Imagine only how many new sorrows we will cause ourselves if we get involved, and then find out that my brother did perish indeed. Are you ready to live through all this again?  
\- I live through this every fucking day.  
Tyrion, shaking his head, stretched out his little palm and covered her fingers.  
\- Please do not be angry. I know that you are driven only by your nobility and love. A loving heart is always looking for hope. It is like the sun, it cannot but shine, and this light is pouring everywhere ...  
There were tears in his eyes. Drunken tears of a weak old man, she thought angrily. She nervously pulled her hand from under his fingers.  
\- I'll go there and bring his body back if you're right. And if not, then I will return my husband alive. If a ransom is required, promise that you will pay it right on demand; you will pay any price, no matter what. Promise it. Promise me and I will leave, and I will no longer disturb you with my hollow hopes.  
\- That's not the point, Brienne! You are not disturbing me, - Tyrion protested. - Please, give me some time to think. I am on your side and I will help you with everything I have, but at least let me come up with a plan on how to get him out of Volantis.  
She got up and nodded.  
\- We have an agreement then. Tomorrow morning I will come again. Before that, I will go to the harbor and look for a ship.  
\- Alone?  
\- Is something threatening me here? - she grinned without humor. - Only if your valetry will kiss the hem of my dress till I elope.  
\- They love the Lannisters, - Tyrion mumbled in embarrassment. - But you are right, over the years I become more and more like my father. I demand more worship for myself, for my name and my title... It's so strange to know that you are repeating the mistakes of those whom you despise. Jaime wouldn't have been proud of me...  
\- So why should I not find the ship myself?  
\- You ... you do not go to Essos alone, do you?  
In the evening, accompanied by Ser Davos, she barely stood on her feet. Maybe she would have done it alone, as promised to Tyrion, but he sent the Master of Ships to harbors, and all she could do was receive help. In fact, she liked his silent sympathy and unfailing delicacy. It was a true nobility, not from the blood, education or habit, but by his nature. They stopped at the doors of the inner chambers.  
\- Thank you for helping me.  
He took her hand carefully.  
\- You are doing great, Ser Brienne, - Davos said without a frown or a smile. - Your husband would be proud of you. However, you also have the right to be proud of him. Not every knight is honored to die, saving the lives of the innocent, those who were entrusted to him. I put it above death on the battlefield.  
He was embarrassed to see her face flinch.  
\- I apologize. I shouldn't have talked about it. I have no tact and can’t express what is on my mind properly. I should have kept silent.  
\- Your words come from the heart. And do not worry. I often feel sad, - Brienne smiled faintly. - People are afraid to witness it. You are not afraid. Thank you again, Lord Seaworth.  
He awkwardly bowed and hurried away.

Brienne pushed the heavy doors. The inner rooms, intended for high born guests, dance balls and regales, were restored in the usual local style - everything looked lush and pompous. The golden columns of the great hall cut the light from the high lancet windows. The mosaic on the floor was still the same. Westeros, but now it was almost all lined with green jadeite and rose quartz, and some other colorful minerals, and seemed flowering and bright in the middle of the blue marble. Brienne strode forward, her dress barely audible rustling, and somewhere high under the arches of the columns in response to it swallows chirped. People said birds settled here from the moment of King Bran's accession. Their tweets now made up eternal music of the inner chambers.  
She looked up.  
Pillars of light fell from the round window in the roof. Dust danced and flower petals flew in these rays.  
She slowly turned around her.  
The world was different then, and it was night outside the windows, and hundreds of candles were burning. The sea was littered with colorful lights, and lanterns flowed through the city streets. They were launched into the sky and slowly sailed towards the stars.  
Her son won the tourney, and in this room, young girls and wealthy dressed young men circled under the violin trills. Their scabbards tinkled, bracelets rang. They moved away from each other, raising their arms in a smooth motion, and then turned and slid in the other direction. Many girls then dressed in blue and azure and pinned their hair with combs in the form of the sun and moon. From afar, dancing couples seemed like sea waves.  
It was beautiful, she thought. Back then she sat patiently over there… Brienne looked at the long mahogany bench set with satin embroidered pillows. Married ladies, including her, sat there, fanning themselves, drinking fruit wine with chopped ice, and lazily exchanging gossip.  
The music drowned out their voices, maybe for the better, for Brienne had nothing to say to them. She noticed that Jaime, sitting on the opposite side, among men, was raising his glass. He was, probably, exchanging another terrible joke with Tyrion. From the windows drawn in a cool breeze. A premonition of autumn spread in the air, making this hot evening, undoubtedly, much nicer. The music stopped for a moment, and began to play again, its rhythm accelerated, and the youth clapped their hands, someone laughed.  
\- Yes! Ah, Yes! The Bear and The Maiden Fair!  
Even those who stretched out on chairs and benches, exhausted of the former dances, jumped from their seats. They tapped their feet and circled in a rather rollicking dance, the girls lifted the hems of their dresses higher, and the young men clapped each other on the shoulders. Some pretty brunette picked up her courage and held both hands to Podrick, who was sitting on the sidelines. More than anything, he must have dreamed of finding himself away from here. Arthur started to whirl immediately with two brisk red-haired beauties - the daughters of some small noble House from the Reach.  
The ladies around Brienne grumbled blaming: how indecent, how low, how vulgar... It was unthinkable in their time! She caught the look of green eyes across the hall. They laughed, and she wanted to laugh in response. She squeezed her lips, trying to hold back the giggling that rushed out.  
And suddenly the whole room in front of her was blocked. Brienne looked up. Tall and broad, dressed in black leather, with a thick silver chain on his chest, Ser Bronn of Blackwater grinned down:  
\- May I dance with you, Lady Lannister?  
He held out his hand. She recoiled as if he was about to hit her. Bronn frowned slightly but was not abashed at all by her reaction. His clear gray eyes still looked at the world with cheerful cynicism.  
\- I don't dance, Lord Bronn.  
\- Come on, he does not see.  
\- I do not dance, - she repeated softly.  
\- Isn't that your song? Why then he is sitting there, drunk, lounging, and you are boring here all alone? Ah, I completely forgot. He is now limping everywhere with a cane. So, I'm at your service. My legs are in perfect state. At the sight of you, they just beg for a dance.  
\- I've already said...  
\- Everything is all right?  
Jaime, as if from nowhere, appeared beside him.  
\- Oh, Gods, - Bronn breathed loudly. And muttered quieter:  
\- You're a jealous asshole, Jaime Lannister. I do not ask to marry her. Just to dance.  
\- What's going on here? - With a sweet, but quite smug, smile, Jaime looked down at Brienne. - Does he bother you, sweetling?  
\- Stop it, you both, - she hissed, and stood abruptly. - You are hideous.

Bronn, as if nothing had happened, turned to the court ladies around.  
\- Dear ladies? Does anybody want to keep me company?

As she left, she heard their joyful giggles and some jokes which Bronn began to throw here and there, diving, finally, in his cunning and shameless element.

Jaime was hastily limping after her, she heard the knocking sound of his cane.  
The heavy doors slammed behind them, and they were left alone in the deserted inner gallery. Music poured from the hall, it was muffled by walls and doors, but a clear rhythm and squeals of violins were still heard.  
She turned to him, her cheeks flush with anger:  
\- What are these scenes, Jaime! Did you send him?  
\- I swear to you, I have nothing to that... I saw him only when he jumped towards you. What a wriggler. Are you upset?  
\- I do not want to dance, told him several times. But, apparently, he wanted to make some mockery out of me.  
\- Do not be silly. He would not joke like that. He always liked you.  
\- This is not mutual.  
\- I know. Sorry, I shouldn't have left you alone.  
\- I’m not a helpless damsel, and I can handle it, - she snapped. - And you are not one of those jealous husbands who always drag behind their wives, like a shadow.  
\- No, of course, not, - he said hastily. - Absolutely not. Certainly not me.  
She frowned and looked suspiciously at his repentant face. A drunken grin had already disappeared from his lips, but in his eyes, this emerald glee was still dancing.  
\- Yes, to whom should I be jealous? There is more gray hair on his head than sand in the sea. He is an uncouth moron. You wouldn't dance with him.

She gazed silently into his face.  
\- Wouldn't you? - He repeated uncertainly.  
\- Are you jealous?  
\- Nonsense.  
\- You are. Like back then, in Winterfell. I could not believe it until... Oh Gods, Jaime! 

I am ugly, she wanted to tell him then.  
I am your wife, she wanted to tell him now.

He suddenly shook his head and walked to the railing.  
\- They say that jealousy haunts only those who doubt themselves. This is not me, Brienne. Do you not know? And yet.  
\- It is so stupid.  
She put her hand on his shoulder and gently stroked it.  
\- Am I not your wife?  
\- You do not notice their gazes, my dear, naive Brienne. Some look at you as a prey hunter, and I just laugh in my heart. These are fools and simpletons. But others… Others see you as a deity. And then I can not help myself.  
\- But I'm here with you...  
He placed the cane on the floor, leaning it against the railing, and laid his hand on hers. His thumb gently caressed her wrist.  
\- You have no idea when I first experienced this dark feeling, - he laughed softly. - Believe it if I say?  
She smiled and looked at the lanterns floating in the sky:  
\- I know. When you saw Tormund in Winterfell. The day you knighted me.  
Jaime sniffed contemptuously.  
\- The day you led me on a rope through the fields of Riverlands. Back then I remembered how someone told me that the huge maid of Tarth was crazy about the freshly made King Renly Baratheon and that he didn’t seem to mind it...  
\- People love to make things up, - she murmured with sadness.  
\- You danced with him, - he said suddenly, in an almost accusing tone.  
\- He invited me.  
\- And you danced.  
\- Gods, please, not again.  
Suddenly, Jaime turned his whole body to her. His eyes sparkled, the smile parted his thin and lovely lips:  
\- How did it happen that you danced with Renly Baratheon, and you almost started dancing with Bronn of Blackwater, but you never did it with me?  
For a few moments, she blinked in confusion.  
\- Maybe because you've never invited? - Finally, she said with a laugh, to somehow get rid of the tension.  
\- Then I invite you.  
She just proceeded to blink, quite stupidly.  
\- Come on, sweetling. The music is still playing. Dance with me.  
She laughed, but his smile did not disappear, only became wider. He raised his hand higher, and she touched his hot fingers.  
Carefully and as gracefully as she could, picking up the hem of her dress, Brienne made one discreet, cautious circle around her husband, turned around - and leaned in a slight bow.  
Her cheeks were hot, her heart pounded as if she was sixteen again, but now there were her best sixteen. Jaime kept his glinting eyes on her. She slowly walked around him, not letting go of his hand, made another circle, and one more. Then turned her head - and suddenly he pulled her around the waist. She leaned to him and he kissed her, powerfully and hotly, pushing his tongue between her lips. His breath smelled of wine and summer. She felt with a shame that her nipples tightened, compressed by the tough velvet corset.  
\- Oh, dear lady. I can’t dance with you... - he murmured in dismay, burying his face in her hair scattering from the dance. - This is against all rules... against all decencies...  
His hand found hers and pulled down with a force. Brienne dutifully laid her fingers on his groin.  
\- See? It’s totally obscene.  
\- Absolutely unacceptable, - she began, giggling softly, but he did not let her finish and kissed her again.

Tyrion took her in his chamber, and his wine glass was again full.

\- I've heard that Ser Davos gave the ship to Volantis, - he muttered, looking somewhere over her head.  
\- This is very kind of him. I suspect that The Hand and the Lord Commander also had their hands in this.  
\- Brienne. And I... I would like to say that you made the right decision, however... I love you, maybe even more than your husband and my brother, you became my true sister. Yes, you and the children, that's all I have now...

She waited patiently for this attack of self-pity to pass. Over the years, Tyrion has definitely become softer and more sentimental.  
He drank some wine and pushed the other glass to her.  
\- This wine is too strong for me, - Brienne shook her head. - Do you know how to help Jaime?  
\- Just take one sip, - he almost prayed. - If you promise to listen to me... My brother loved you very much. You know that, don't you?

Brienne folded her hands in her lap but said nothing. She waited for Tyrion to finally move on.

\- And all your children... They grew up in love, in complete concord. Perhaps that is why they are so bright. Smart, strong, kind and beautiful, and happy... This is the most important thing, I guess? Isn't it the most important thing in life? He was so proud of them. He was so... he loved them endlessly. Why are you watching like that? What are you looking at?

She flinched and looked away.

\- It is such a great loss… But, - Tyrion suddenly, looking perfectly sober, drummed his fingers on the tabletop. - Brienne. I will not take any promises from you, except for the promise to be silent. I myself have not kept it. But you are stronger than me and stronger than him, and you, of course... You can handle it. You see, it all happened a long time ago. Like in a past life. Our lives have long been divided into two.

Brienne, not comprehending half of what he said, stared at his face.  
\- I do not understand.  
\- The problem is, - Tyrion grinned bitterly, - I've always had to make a choice, but whatever I chose, would lead me here or back to them. In the lion's lair. To the Lannisters. And I myself am one of them. Sansa Stark probably always knew that. No matter how hard I tried to persuade her to return, she’d never even accepted an invitation to meet. Can a wolf make friends with a lion?  
He paused and then finished off his wine in one huge gulp.

\- I've found my brother down here. Under the stones, even in death, they were together, embracing, like brother and sister, like twins in the womb, or... like lovers. Then I did not care. It seemed to me that their death erased all their sins, redeemed everything. I remember their faces gray with dust, and their blood, and terrible wounds, their torn clothes. And when I was dragging the stones, I cried, cried like a child. And when I ordered to put the bodies to a cart, I wanted to wipe the dust from these faces. Then Jaime began to breathe. And when I turned to call someone for help, I felt that her fingers found mine and squeezed.  
Brienne began to rise from the table, but suddenly she felt that her legs had refused to stand.  
\- I was scared. I was stunned, yes, but also very scared. Both were alive, barely alive, barely breathing, and the dragon was still flying over the burned city. I've told them to lay as quietly as possible. I’ve decided that it would be best to take them far away from here, secretly, when it gets dark, to be moved to Lannissport or even across the sea. Jaime first came to his senses. He called me in his delirious and begged me to finish him off, and all of this, the moving, the breathing, was very painful for him. I could do almost nothing to ease his anguish. Finally, he saw that Cersei was also alive. He hugged her, he cried, I still remember his cracked voice. Then I... Then we...  
Again, Brienne tried to rise. This time she had enough strength.  
\- What have you done?  
Brienne loomed over him, and Tyrion turned away in confusion. Then he held her a glass of wine:  
\- Please, Brienne! Sit down and listen. I took them out of the city, ordering them to pretend to be dead while we were still here, among the ruins. I asked Seaworth to find me a boat, I’ve told him that I wanted to ship some of the Lannisters soldiers to Essos, because they were executed here, without any mercy. They had already surrendered, and yet they were cut into pieces, like a cattle... Jaime helped me, I'd given him some sticks to lean on, and the three of us with our guide... I don’t understand how, but we've managed to carry Cersei into the boat. The fisherman was very afraid of what we had in mind and finally agreed to take only one. We have sent her to Tyrosh. Jaime gave his golden hand as a fee. I decided that I would take him to Lannisport, as I'd planned before, and on the road again I would find a way to hide him. I started to persuade him, I begged him. But he no longer wanted to either flee or fight. He wanted to die.

Tyrion fell silent.  
Brienne got up and went to the window. From the smell of flowering trees, from the heat that was pouring outside, her head became heavy and empty.  
\- His further fate you do know.

\- Why?

\- I asked him to save her even before the siege. They are my brother and sister. She was... probably, she had his child. I decided back then that it would be best for them to go to Pentos, to change their names and live there unnoticed ... I've let him go and he has returned to her, and... And for all this, I was thrown into prison. Lions always need more, you see. I made a lot of sacrifices for them, and in the end, I myself became sacrificed.

\- What happened next?

\- I had my people in Tyrosh. As, incidentally, in many other places. Lannisters love to keep everything under control. This woman, Lady Delaney. She was once a noble lady here in the King's Landing, but she married a Tyroshi merchant and moved to the other side of the Sea. For the gold, she was ready to do a lot. She ... she helped Cersei. For a long time Cersei was almost unconscious, terribly wounded, stayed between life and death, but finally, she survived. Her wounds healed. Lady Delaney informed me that she remained lame for the rest of her life. They're twins, you know. Even their limping is similar. I’ve sometimes got letters from Essos and I was sending the gold. We kept in touch through fishermen in the oyster market, but I swear to you, no more than that. All I know today is that Lady Delaney was recently murdered and, most likely, Cersei could also suffer. She may have died. 

\- All that time. Did Jaime know?

Tyrion exhaled painfully. 

\- He did. 

She did not turn to him, aimlessly examining the sea waves. Sun glare blinded her eyes.

\- Do you think he… he could come back to her? Or decided to finally find her?  
\- Oh, Brienne. I wish I knew but I don’t. Jaime and Cersei's connection always was very strong. That's all I clearly sense about my brother and sister. The rest is a mystery to me. But he has never... Sometimes Jaime gave gold for Lady Delaney, but much more often it was me. I did not allow him to contact Lady Delaney. I didn’t want... you see, I didn’t want him to... Brienne! Say something, I beg you.

Probably, she should answer him, should start to lament, or beg, or question him, or yell at him. But Brienne could not utter a word. Tyrion tried again, desperately:

\- He was happy with you, isn’t it enough? You have seven children, they were born one by one, you were together, and you loved him. Two decades, it's a long way; it's a completely different life. 

Her eyes were almost blind, and suddenly she realized that the world was blurring not because of the sun, but because of tears.


	4. The Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- I do not grant prophecies, and if I give them to someone, then mostly as punishment, - he grinned weakly in response to her silence questions. - And many people call my gift cursed.

She almost ran into a knight in golden armor, and nearly knocked him off his feet. With her height it was easy. Brienne brought both hands to her face, with horror realizing that her cheeks were wet.  
\- Ser Brienne. My lady.

Silently they stared at each other, and then Brienne looked around suspiciously.

\- I can't believe they've sent you to eavesdrop, Podrick.

His face became miserable as if she had struck him.

\- Eavesdrop?  
\- What are you doing here? At the Hand's chambers?  
\- I waited for you. I was told to wait for you.  
She turned away, secretly wiping her wet face.  
\- I didn't overhear, - Podrick Payne said in an unhappy voice. - I would never spy on you.  
\- Good. All right. I have to go.  
\- But I’m told to escort you.  
\- To hell with all that you were told, and where you were going to take me. Let me go.  
\- He told me to tell you that... tell you that you'll want to listen to him.  
\- I do not want to listen to anyone anymore.

He bowed slightly.  
\- Forcing you and persuading you was forbidden for me.  
She took a few broad steps, but then stopped. She felt sorry for Podrick. Always she screamed at him and snapped at him, and suddenly the truth was revealed to her, including about herself ...  
\- Forgive me. I shouldn't have talked to you like that.  
\- Are you crying?  
\- No.  
\- You are crying.

She flared with anger as the paper raised to the fire flashes, and suddenly this flash turned into a dull and impossible pain somewhere in the heart. With horror, feeling that her face spreads in the most pitiful, most disgusting grimace, and having no more strength to hold herself, feeling that she is rolling down the slope, that her whole life is rolling there too - Brienne sobbed. Big and bitter tears rolled down her cheeks.

She did not see his face in front of her, everything was spreading and swaying in a kind of muddy fog. He led her to the window and put his hand on her palm, and so they stood for a while, Brienne - shaking with tears and Podrick Payne - always patient and restrained, waiting for this shameful attack to pass. Suddenly he said quietly and calmly:

\- Do you remember how your first son was born? Do you know how I was afraid then? I stood against the walls and waves of the dead, I saw people rise from death and their eyes burn with a blue fire and saw other battles, and a wildfire blazing above the sea. I saw dragons alive and dead. But I was not afraid of anything as much as your tears, Ser Brienne. If only I could take a little bit of your pain. I have since then become a knight and headed the Kingsguard, but I will always remember the day when I was just a squire, and in that abandoned hut I was holding a baby in my arms. This day was the most terrible in my life, and the most beautiful. Sometimes I think that I lived only for this.  
She gradually stopped sobbing and glanced nervously at him.

\- Oh, Podrick. I shouldn't have ... Why?  
\- Because there is nothing more important than life, Ser Brienne. Do you not know?  
She smoothed her hair and straightened.  
\- You are too kind to me, Podrick. But I'm glad I have such friend as you.  
\- You have a brother.

Brother. Her brother died a long time ago, died in the blue waters of Tarth. She has never had a person next to her who could be called that. And how stupid she was, once again she showed herself to be so worthless. Oh, Brienne Tarth, what a fool you are.   
\- Who sent you for me? - She tried to regain at least a semblance of dignity.  
\- He is waiting for you. If you want to come with me.

She gave up and obediently followed him, folding her arms in front of her, trying to look staid and decent, because the met servants and courtiers looked back at her - some with pity, and some with sympathy.

Brienne was amazed at how he had changed. After all, we met less than a year ago, she thought involuntarily. The Sorcerer King, Bran the Broken, sat on his throne without moving and looked at her with that dark and calm gaze. 

Many were afraid of him, others almost fainted in his presence, sated of rumors and secret whispers beforehand. But she, like her husband, remembered Bran as a young and frightened boy who sat lonely under the snow that fell on Winterfell. She remembered how fragile he always seemed to her - hardly a little younger than Podrick, and how she wanted someone to object to him when he asked to leave him in Godswood to lure otherworldly guests. Back then in his voice, she heard fear. Thinking of him later, she, again and again, returned to those long nights and to that piercing wind, knocking out all the warmth from their bodies to the horror that hugged them all by the shoulders. She loved him because Sansa loved him because Arya was on his side, and Jon Snow, and all of them — stood like a living wall around this boy, and there was always room for pity and compassion in her heart.

His face was drawn and aged, as if for many years at once. He had a neat dark beard that made his white skin even paler. The crown, which was made for him in the workshops of Gendry Baratheon, was light and very beautiful, but always seemed to her like a crown woven from bare branches. And now this throne ... Made from a single piece of a weirwood tree, for a long time it remained just a snow-white wooden chair, albeit skillfully carved. But more recently, it began to cry - it expired scarlet tears that formed on the floor around him some scarlet drips, very sinister looking. And not so long ago, according to rumors, the throne began to grow. In a literal sense, and now Brienne saw it was true. Thin shoots stretched from its flesh, and small red leaves appeared. They swayed over the back of the throne and seemed to whisper to the King some ancient and evil secrets.

\- Come closer, - he said.

Brienne obeyed. Podrick stayed behind her, she heard his armor clink.  
\- You can stay, Ser Payne, - Bran told him. - Brienne Lannister, nee of Tarth, come to me.  
Approaching, and stopping at the very foot of the throne, she noticed several silver threads on his black hair. Power makes people old. Power changes people.  
\- Like everything else, - he remarked with a soft laugh. - Like life itself.  
\- I am sorry, Your Majesty, - she lowered her eyes and made a deep bow. - I didn't... I didn't think that...  
\- You're still wearing a black gown. Who are you mourning about? Do you believe everything you've been told?  
\- Shouldn't I? - She asked bitterly.

He looked at her with some astonishment, but tenderly and patronizing.

\- You've never really believed what people told you. They said that you were ugly, that you were stupid, that you could not be a knight, that no one would ever love you, that you could not fight on the birth-giving bed, only on the war field. That you will not become a good mother, that you will not be able to revive the greatness of Evenfall Hall. That you will die in battle with the dead. That your man is an incestor and will not be able to throw off this yoke, just as those who constantly drink poppy milk will never be able to erase its drops from their lips. That no one will ever put a wedding cloak on your shoulders. Your incredulous stubbornness led you to where you are now. To the Throne of weirwood, to the King whom you all saved, to the world in which the apple and cherry trees are blooming. To your seven children. Do not back away from who you are, Brienne.

She bowed her head to hide a painful grimace.

\- What do you feel? - Bran asked suddenly.

Brienne knew that there was no point in hiding from someone who knew everything, and yet she hesitated with an answer. Finally, not getting any reaction from him, she said:

\- Confused. That's how I feel. And I feel deceived. And...  
\- Anger. These were tears of anger. Am I right?

She said nothing.

\- You will find him, - Bran uttered impassively. - You will find him, be he at the very edge of the world.

Brienne looked up at him, trying to understand.

\- I do not grant prophecies, and if I give them to someone, then mostly as punishment, - he grinned weakly in response to her silence questions. - And many people call my gift cursed. But I remember everything that you did for this world, Brienne, and therefore it is my pleasure to reward you now.

\- What have I done? - She asked nervously.

Now he smiled as if he wanted to hide a smile.

\- You were happy here, - Bran finally and gently said. - In this world, under this sun, under these stars, under this moon. This is a great gift from you to us all.

She looked him over carefully; a black mantle and white branches, which, she could have sworn, swayed quietly around his head.  
He seems so lonely. So infinitely lonely and lost on this huge bleeding throne. Doesn't he feel alone, Brienne thought suddenly. Does not miss them? Sansa, Jon, Arya, and Winterfell?

\- I miss them, just as you miss your children, - he remarked, never ceasing to smile with that strange smile. - Just as your husband longs for his family. My soul is very old, but my body still lives, and what remains in it from Bran Stark, longs painfully for his family every moment, every shortest moment. It cries like my Throne cries, all the time. I think we understand each other.

\- Yes, - Brienne said. - I think I… I understand you, Your Majesty.

\- Your daughter, the gentlest one, loves birds. Have you ever not wanted to be like them, spread your wings and fly? Look at the world from a height and marvel at how beautiful it is? You could circle over your castle and see their faces, hear their laughter. I once wanted to fly ... It would be worth choosing desires smarter.

She did not know what to answer. In his voice, she simultaneously heard pride and bitterness. One of the thin branches slipped suddenly as if bent from a gust of nonexistent wind and wrapped around his bony wrist. Brienne could have sworn she saw it with her own eyes. Throne seemed to be trying to chain him to itself.

Bran laughed softly and looked from his wrist to her:

\- This place comes alive. It becomes stronger, it calls, and it all because it feels a new soul. The Throne will live and grow, while the one who sees and remembers the old worlds and the new worlds will sit on it. The time will come, and I will give it to the one who comes after. You all have seen the birth of a new era, and this era of sorcerers will be long. Like much, it will not remain eternal but will live long enough to break what is left of the past. So it will be for many years, decades and hundreds of years, thousands of years after me. Each of us will fly, and then share the old soul and begin to look for a replacement. And we will not interrupt this chain of memory until there is one who will be eager for liberation. However, then, at that moment, even my bones would decay and flow into belowground rivers, and when they reach the sea, they will unite with the waves. Maybe then I will be free.

\- But I thought you could not... - she cut herself off in mid-sentence and blushed.  
\- I can't have heirs, yes. But I can find a successor.

Brienne shivered from involuntary pity for the one on whom Bran will turn his gaze. Sitting on this living piece of weirwood was, perhaps, torture even more painful than sitting on the Iron Throne. Those kings, at least, did not learn about the world so much that they lost themselves in the memories and prophecies.

\- Do not worry, - Bran noticed her sad thoughtfulness. - When I talk about the future, I look very far away, and I always forget that people differ from me. I will live here for a very long time. In any case, I will certainly see you coming back. I promise you that.

Brienne looked back into his eyes with dismay. She wanted to believe so much, but — he noticed it — she was always incredulous, careful and stubborn.

\- I remember seeing a dream about a girl with a mutilated face, - he suddenly said. - It was one of those dreams after that you wake up in tears. Her hair was blue like bird feathers.

Brienne flinched.

\- The next morning, I told Sam to make a potion from Scarlet Disease, and then pass it on to your husband, but I've soon learned that, although it helped the child to survive, the scars remained forever. Forever her face was uglified. I wanted to cry because I had never had so much compassion for anyone in this life. She was named after my mother, and it tormented my heart even more. She was the only one who appeared in my dreams, she grew up somewhere over the sea, and I saw in my dreams how she grows up, runs, plays, fights with swords. And then I saw her alive, here in the capital. She came to the tournament, she laughed and looked so very happy. And it seemed very beautiful to me. She seemed to break all my dreams, all my worries. I never saw a single dream of her again.

\- Have you seen our Catelyn in your dreams?

\- Never again, - Bran admitted with a sad grin. - You and Jaime Lannister turned my horror dreams into nonsense, into emptiness. It was neither a prophecy nor a memory. Everything that tormented me turned into nothing. Just because your love was enough to grow your Cat strong, kind and happy.

\- But I... but we...

\- My Hand seems to have just told you that your seven children are the highest value, the highest happiness you could achieve. Maybe he is not so wrong. It is a pity that you have to sacrifice for them. But you were ready for this. From the moment after the battle, when he appeared in your room and seduced you. You always knew that children would come to you, and you would not be able to renounce them. You will not lose any of them, you will not refuse any of them. I only hope that when the time comes to give them away you can do it without tears, without pain.

\- What are you talking about? - she felt a pang of alarm, so strong that she almost shake. That was why so many people in Westeros were afraid of Bran the Broken, she thought suddenly. 

\- You will give your children away, you will give them forever, you will give them to the south, west, and east, and north, Brienne, - Bran told her quite serenely. - And you will make a wonderful gift for all of us, for Kings Landing. If this comforts you, one of the children will remain at Evenfall Hall and will inherit everything, and extend your lineage, the House of the famous Lannisters from Tarth. You will become known everywhere, known for the beauty, tall stature, strength and nobility. Even in the songs you, the mother-ancestor, will be called beautiful. People forget the truth and leave only what they like or what they would like to remember and know. 

\- I will not give up my children, - she said resolutely. - I will not give them to anyone.

\- It is not in your power. And it's not for you to decide.

She folded her arms in front of her and bent slightly in the bow, portraying submissiveness. She rarely dared to argue, and especially with kings. Had Jaime been here, he would have been found the words, would have said something sharp, salty. He would have come to her rescue...

Jaime. Even the name of her husband now cuts like a knife.

\- Sometimes he calls you, - Bran said quietly. - He calls you in his dreams. He is calling you all, and is looking for you all, and can not find.

She lowered her head. Her face, like her soul, froze, unable, it seems, to either smile or cry. Her eyes, completely dry, stared senselessly at the drips of red tar at the edge of the steps.

\- Your younger son. He was born dead. And yet he managed to survive, maybe your love makes wonders. The things we do for love... indeed are miracles. He saw Jaime in his dreams. He was looking for his father.

\- That's true, - Brienne remembered Gerion’s startled face.

\- He is very smart. He has an excellent memory. But strangely, he is not like any of you.

\- Jaime ... Jaime said the twins remind him of Lann the Clever. And Tyrion thinks they look like Uncle Gerion Lannister, Laughing Lion.

Bran tilted his head to the shoulder:

\- Yes, there are many similarities. But there is something else. Do you believe his dreams?

\- I don’t know. Gerion is just a child...

\- Yet. He himself does not believe in them, for that matter. Children are the most incredulous of us. Although he is upset and confused, his mind and thirst for life allow him to forget these dreams or at least erase them for a while. Well, so be it. It is not in our power to break the course of things, nor to stop it.

Brienne was silent. Over the years, her anxiety for Gerion and Galladon faded away, they began to seem to her the most prosperous and confident of all the children. Perhaps the fact that there were always two of them reassured her. 

\- Let us talk about your path. I took the liberty of making an order for the workshops of Lord Baratheon. I have never regretted that I gave him the king's forges. Fortunately, he spends more time in the capital than in his gloomy castle and can cope with any order.

She heard Podrick walk up quickly behind. With a bow, he placed a long sword in a richly decorated scabbard on the king's knees.

\- It's not easy to find Valyrian steel in our time. Personally, I prefer citizens to resolve disputes with gold, laws, and words, rather than steel and iron. And yet I like what Gendry made.

Brienne stared in amazement at the sword in his thin hand. It looked excellent, seemed heavy and at the same time elegant.

\- You've already received the second sword as a gift from the Red Keep - the steel reflections began to run over the King’s face. - I've always suspected that you deserved more than one half of my father’s sword, Ser Brienne. Come here. Touch it. Try it. It is only yours from now.

She came and took the sword from his hand.

\- They say any swords should have a name.

Brienne almost opened her fingers - his voice was so similar to Jaime’s.

\- Any ideas?

It was a great gift, of course, but not one of those that are made just for nothing.

\- Cursed Gift, - she said after a pause, and when she looked up, she saw Bran smiling at her, quite pleased with her strange and even hostile choice.

Maybe he already knew about it for a long time, Brienne thought with cold cynicism. What is the use of discussing anything with someone who already knows in advance?

\- I don't know anything in advance, - said the King. - I only see many worlds in which many souls live, and many destinies are woven into a single pattern here and now. Everything lives, and everything moves, circling in the eternal dance of opportunities and losses... I have a cursed gift, you are absolutely right.

She glanced at the hilt. It was adorned with lions, whose smooth bodies and long tails with tassels curled around the suns and moons, their manes darted, merging with the rays, merging into some kind of unified ornament. A large sapphire decorated an apple, and on the other side, the same size dark pink ruby was attached.

\- It really is beautiful, - Brienne said. - Thank you, Your Majesty.   
\- And the last thing I want you to remember, Lady Brienne Lannister. When you meet twins lovers, question them. Make them talk, with sword or gold. You have to know everything, everything to the end. Now go. In your rooms, a new armor has been prepared for you.

\- Thank you, - she looked around, confused. Podrick nodded slightly to her, indicating: the meeting is over. - But I am not…

Bran no longer listened to her. He threw his head back against the Throne, and white branches with scarlet leaves swayed around his weary face.


	5. Twins lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't help them. Don't look back, wench.  
> Not your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault, do you hear me?

For all the time they were married, Jaime and Brienne had a big fight only once. 

And because of what? Because of nonsense, really. Remembering this, while the ship slowly walked around the sandbanks and moored in one of the small harbors of Volantis, she smirked involuntarily. She was standing on the prow of the ship, exposing her face to the hot, humid wind that was playing with loose strands of her hair.

How stupid you were, wench.  
He often called her "naive", it happened that it enraged her, or made her laugh, but she should have believed it.

That evening, playing with little Joanna, who sat on her lap, she told Jaime:

\- I'm so sorry you couldn't bury your sister.

Her heart was still sad for her father back then. Perhaps she wanted to share with someone exactly this experience, and not just sadness. She began to feel that Jaime also needed encouragement after all that had happened to him and his sister in King’s Landing. Loss of loved ones is always a blow, she thought. She just wanted to give him a hand and say: I understand. 

Jaime's head threw back from the papers:

\- What?  
\- After all, she was sent to Casterly Rock, - Brienne said. – I know, that Tyrion made everything needed. But you've never been there ever since ... it all ended. Would you not like to go there and pay tribute to the memory?

He turned to her, his face dark with anger.

\- What are you talking about, Brienne?  
\- We could go there together if you want, and if not, I ... - she murmured, and he threw away the quill.

\- Go where?  
\- In your homeland.  
\- We have three children. They are all small.  
\- I understand, but we can wait a year or two.  
\- Do you understand? And what else do you understand?

She hugged her whimpering daughter. Jaime turned his gaze to the child, then looked again at her face.

\- Why are you talking to me like that? - she felt doused with fear. Never in her life was she afraid of men, women, children, animals, soldiers and robbers ... and even more so, her husband. And this thought made her sick.

Brienne carried Joanna to the cradle. When she returned, Jaime stood at the window, peering into the darkness.

\- I don’t want to talk about her anymore, - he said, without turning to Brienne. - I don't even want to hear about it.  
\- I can not talk about your sister? - With a nervous laugh, she uttered.  
\- Do you want me to forbid you directly?  
\- No.  
\- Good. Then take it as advice.

And then she exploded. Like wildfire, a rage surged up in her soul, akin to that rage which you experience only in battle.

\- How dare you treat me like that?

He turned to her abruptly.

\- You are my wife.  
\- So? Are you one of those, Jaime Lannister, who is tyrannizing wives and children instead of their real enemies? And why did I hurt you so much? Because I've decided that you also want to say goodbye to dead relatives as was bequeathed by Seven Gods?  
\- Who told you I want this?

\- I don’t know! Took you as a good person, - she snapped. - I will not make such a mistake again. I'm going to sleep.

She began to pick up her shawl and nightgown from the bed, and he reached her in a few steps and grabbed her by the elbow.

\- What are you doing, Brienne?  
\- Going to another bedroom.  
\- No, you not.

She looked into his dark eyes and suddenly felt a cold shiver.

\- Let me go.

He responded by pulling her higher, and she, clutching at his hand with whitened fingers, whispered:

\- Another moment like this, and I can not vouch for myself.

Jaime blinked and opened his fingers. She disdainfully removed his palm. He became disgusting to her at that moment - his stubbornness, his anger, his mocking tone.  
With a confused and sad face, he spoke, watching her picking her things:

\- I beg you. Let's forget about this dispute. I was wrong. I did not want to hurt you.

\- Ask for forgiveness? Already? Or it is just because I've threatened you, and because I am taller and can fight you back? Your sister, she is shorter than me and much weaker, did you also hold your sister by the elbow, pull her hand and not let go?

Jaime raised his hand, as if to strike, but instead simply wrapped his fingers around her cheekbone. He hissed angrily:

\- No more words. Shut up already. Not about her. No more of her name, or mention of her from your mouth.  
\- Remove your fucking hand, otherwise, you will be left without both, - Brienne said through her clenched teeth.

Something sounded in her voice, which finally forced him to retreat and take a few steps back. Head down, he stood there as she walked to the door. She recalled his repentant and devastated appearance that night when he left Winterfell.

She knew different people, and many of them knew how to insult her or humiliate her with a couple of dirty words or a look. They could hit her in a fight, try to rape her or throw her into a pit with a bear.

But of all of them, only this man knew how to cause her real pain.

For several nights they slept in different bedrooms and scared the servants with utter silence at their meals. For the children, however, they tried not to show anything. It was hard, but it was a lesson for her: the most difficult, the most terrible thing - to lie like that. She wondered if Septon would give her permission to dissolve the marriage, and the thought itself doused her with cold, similar to what had once moved on her army from behind the Wall.

Jaime looked sadder every day, and she was soon tired of her rage at him.

Once he came to her bedroom, and she let him in, and instead of asking for forgiveness, Jaime said:

\- I understand if you want to drive me away. I can only pray that you change your mind.

Brienne put her comb on the table and looked at him in the mirror.

\- Just tell me why you've started this fight.

He bit his lip. Then he said:

\- I know that it was not easy for you to put up with the fact that I ... that we... With who I am. But you knew that, didn't you?  
\- I knew.  
\- And yet I saw that it hurts you. I am so sorry that my past is haunting us. I would like to forget it, forget it forever. I don't want to even think about her. I don't want you to think about her. Brienne. I ... I just want to be here with you.

Jaime suddenly became silent and sat down heavily on her bed, as if the conversation had exhausted him.

\- I have never missed you so much as now, - he said with a quiet and painful smile.  
Although the memory of it hurt her now, the revealed truth was like salt poured into an open wound - but Brienne could never get rid of her tenderness for him.  
Tenderness to those whom we loved, and who loved us, covers even our darkest days, she thought bitterly.

At the entrance, she was searched, however, she did not allow the soldiers, dressed in long purple cloaks, to even touch the sword. 

The servants' shadows slid across the large courtyard. Lanterns flamed at the top hung on long ropes between the tiers and galleries of a huge building. The music played so loudly that it spread down a couple of blocks from here. Brienne looked around carefully. The ins and outs she already knew from the words of her soldiers and Podrick's.

Inside, she chose an empty table and sat down, inspecting the crowd. Naked and half-naked bodies, silks, painted fabrics, jewels and the smell of wine and incense.  
In places like this, Brienne had never been and was not eager to be, and yet felt some kind of intense curiosity. She noticed glances that slid across her - bewildered, approving and even lewd.

Some of the rich dressed men spread out on the couches around the low tables with sweets and fruits looked her up and down, raised their hands and beckoned her.  
Brienne turned away. Years hardened her — she felt neither contempt, nor anger, nor embarrassment — just an obscure annoyance at their arrogant stupidity.

Maids brought her wine in a copper jug and a plate of nuts.

\- Is it now allowed to let into the knights in full vestments? - with a soft smile, the girl said, sitting down opposite her. - But this armor is amazing.

Brienne shrugged.

\- Could someone restrain me?  
\- We now have other rules, - the girl threw a black braid behind her back. - It became calmer here.  
\- What happened here?  
\- I do not know, my lady. Someone tried to steal meat while working, or something. At that moment I was jumping on the dick of a very old man, I was not at all into the news.

Brienne shivered. The subtle accent softened all the words and made them sound naive, childishly directly. But the dirt hidden behind the words left an unpleasant aftertaste.

\- What's your name?   
\- Maalla. And yours?  
\- Are the customer's names asked here?  
\- Some people say. Others feign. - Maalla smiled, showing her white and straight teeth. Her face was covered with small moles, and it only made her look even prettier. If she were dressed properly, Brienne thought with regret. Of the clothes the girl had only a long skirt, fasten upon the waist with gold chains and colorful scarves.

\- Want to look around? Choose someone else? I can…

Brienne glanced to the side.

\- Tell me later what you can. Call someone else.

Preferably, not one of those who jumped on someone else's dicks that evening, she thought.

As soon as Maalla dived into the crowd, two people appeared at the opposite of Brienne.

The girl's hair was a dark gold color, and her purple eyes looked kindly and serene. The young man's hair was the same shade, but his eyes were dark blue, impenetrable and detached. Both were of the same height, thin, well built, with beautiful faces, both were dressed in dark purple bloomers and small shameless corsets, embroidered with silver coins. The girl suddenly raised her hands and unbuttoned her corset, showing Brienne her small snowy white breasts.

She averted her eyes. The boy was sitting still, smiling with some kind of glued smile. And suddenly she realized that he was not drunk and not afraid. His pupils simply devoured his eyes. Of them, a poppy poison looked at her.

However, he still could move his tongue.

\- What are you looking at? - he asked cheerfully. - Do you think we just dressed the same? We are indeed a brother and sister.  
\- We can fuck for you, - the girl said with a smirk. - You will only watch if you want. Many people like it. We do it better than anyone.  
\- Twins lovers, everyone calls us that, - her brother put in.

She took the time to exhale, hide her amazement and collect her thoughts. While the children in front of her giggled and drank the wine brought for her, Brienne tried to think as quickly as possible.

\- And what are your names?  
\- Theya and Theos, - the girl said. - We know your language. Everything that you order we understand and we will make no inaccuracies.  
\- You are from Westeros.  
\- We were born here. But they say our mother was from Westeros. Well, we do not know her at all.  
\- How much do you want?

They looked at each other and chortled like children.  
\- The price you will know when we finish.  
\- All right.

She got up. The children slid somewhere ahead. She followed, trying not to lose sight of the purple silk and golden hair. As she made her way through the crowd, she felt waves of heat and music that almost knocked her over.   
Theya and Theos led her along a corridor, climbed the stairs, and suddenly Theya looked around and took her hand.

\- This is our room, - she opened the door, and Brienne entered.

The room was quite spacious but furnished poorly. The white walls were decorated with silk-carved and strung garlands of flowers. They have long been faded from the sun. The wide bed was covered with bright bedspreads and littered with small silk and velvet pillows. White muslin sheets hung on the windows, they were rather dirty. The hot wind outside swayed them, making the room cooler at least in appearance. On the table, Brienne noticed some mugs, jugs of wine and water, crumpled rags. Theya began to light the oil lamps, chasing off the twilight dark. Brienne touched the doorknob. There was no lock.

\- How do you lock this door?  
\- We don't, - Theos said lightly. - Are you afraid that they will enter? Do not be afraid. When we finish, we will issue a mark for the guard.  
He showed her a lamp in a carved clay bowl, which stood on the floor by the door.

Brienne nodded at the small heavy couch next to the bed.

\- Help me.

Theos, although he did not understand her intentions, obeyed. They dragged the couch to the door, blocking it.

\- What for, my lady? Do you want to beat us? It costs more, that's all, - Theya observed.  
\- You can burn my skin here, - Theos nodded, pointing to the inside of his thigh. - I honestly cry when it hurts. I don’t pretend like so many others... Do you want to see my scars?

\- No, - Brienne sat down at the table and poured herself warm water in the mug, which seemed to her the least dirty.

Theya finished arranging the lamps and, smiling, turned to her.

-You are very beautiful, my lady, - she gently extended her hand and touched her short and soft braids, assembled with a golden hairpin with the sun on the end. - And your hair is very skillfully arranged. I love your hair. Like golden light. Why do you want two at once? What's on your mind?

A small finger touched her temple.

\- What should we do for you, my lady?

Brienne suddenly thought of her children. Her heart sank in pain. Joanna taught her to style her hair in such a way that it would not interfere in battle or movement. The hairpin was sharp and could have served as a weapon on occasion. Now, when other children's small hands touched her, she felt sad and empty.

Theos took a sip from the tiny glass vial that he had taken out from under the pillows and hid it again. He approached her and knelt. He put his narrow palm on the laces of her breeches.

\- I can lick you clean, - he said in a slightly unintelligible way. – I know that your taste is sweet. I like sweets, my lady. And my sister at this time will lick your...

Brienne gently pushed his hand away.

\- Do not touch.

He looked up at Theya.

\- Well... Well, then we can lick each other, and you will caress yourself watching. So do you like it better?

Brienne shook her head. She was upset with everything that was happening here, confused and angry. But she did not want to scare them. With a sword or a word, King Bran told her. Sword or a word, or gold.

\- Listen. You have already drunk enough poppy milk. I don't want to see it again. Is it clear?

He nodded with a blissful smirk. Brienne took his hand and led him to the bed. He immediately lay down and spread his legs.

\- Not. Just sit here. Sit up here, - she ordered. - You! Theya. Come to me.

Theya hurried to them, she sat down next to her brother and wrapped her arms around his neck.

\- Don't touch him. Sit down next. Yes, like this.

She looked down at their faces, beautiful and now a bit scared. They must have expected something really bad from her at any moment.

\- I won't hurt you, - Brienne sighed. - You answer my questions, and then I'll just leave. All right?

Theya nodded, not tearing her meek glance from Brienne. Theos smirked and looked off into the distance.

\- Theos, did you understand me?  
\- Yes, my lady.  
\- That's better.

She pulled a chair up to the bed and sat in front of the children.

\- You were here when it happened?  
\- What?  
\- Someone tried to steal a girl from here.

Theya paused and nodded.

\- Did you see who it was?  
\- You have a very beautiful sword, my lady, - the boy suddenly declared.  
\- Hey. Focus on me. Theos, please.

Theya shoved her fist into his ribs:

\- Enough already! He drinks this poison all the time. Spends all that we earn. We have no coins even for bread. Yesterday I ate the scraps because the cooks do not give me food. I stole a chicken that someone didn't eat. It was delicious.

Brienne stared at her, unblinking.

\- Do you need gold?  
\- And who does not need it?  
\- I will pay you generously if you answer my questions.  
\- You are not paying us, - Theos confessed with a laugh. - We are forbidden to get it from customers. Only steward can pay us if he thinks we deserved coins.  
\- If you don't tell anyone, no one will know.  
\- They will search, - Theya said. - If they find hidden gold, they will beat us to death.  
\- Then think about where to hide it properly, - Brienne advised, frowning.

And yet she became frightened for them. She is going to pull the poor boy and his sister into something foul.

But I have no choice, she thought longingly.  
I just have no other way.

\- You were here? - She repeated insistently. - Have you seen what had happened?  
\- They were a few knights, - Theos said. - One is very handsome, one is very tall, one in gold armor, and one in a blue cloak. This one was old, he was limping.  
\- They say that there were a lot more of them. Outside. They even scared the soldiers. Since then, the guard has changed, now others serve here... They are stronger, they are not afraid of anything. They beat, cut you, if only they suspect something. They speak their language. Nothing you can explain to them. Yes, they will not listen... It used to be better.

\- What did these knights do?  
\- Well, they stayed down a bit, then paid for that girl. They say she hanged herself right before their arrival. But they took her off the noose and still raped her. But, she survived.

Brienne grimaced.

\- And then?  
\- They threw her out the window and fled. And they took her with them.  
\- The only one left. He is lame, did I tell you before?  
\- Yes, Theos. Did he stay here?  
\- He was captivated; he was taken to a mistress.  
\- He was taken to a new mistress, - Theya said uncertainly. - The girl that serves the drinks, saw him in the inner chambers.  
\- What else did she see?  
\- Then the new mistress took him with her. They say they slept together later.  
\- She put him on a chain, - Theos objected. - She chained him to the wall and put a collar on him. He sat like that for several days and peed and did everything right on the floor.  
\- But then the maids saw him in her bed. He lay there, and she lay beside...  
\- Is she here now? Who is she?  
\- No, that's... I saw her. This is a very beautiful woman. She is old but beautiful. Tall. But not like you. Above me, perhaps. Her hair is like that of Theya, or like mine. She is wearing a red velvet dress. She has a golden chain around her neck and a golden lion on it.  
\- And she's lame, - Theya said. - She is lame, and she has very harsh eyes.

Brienne felt the room sway slightly.

\- What is her name? Did you hear what they call her?

Theos spoke several syllables.  
\- This is her name for Ibbeni. Soldiers call her that.  
\- This is not a name, - Theya interrupted him, - in Ibben, this means The Highest Shadow. This is just a title. They say she is the wife of some consul on Ibbene.  
\- You say that the maids have seen the lame knight taken to her. What happened next?

Theya shivered. Theos looked at his sister with a long and sad look. Then he turned to Brienne:

\- He was punished. Five Dothraki strokes. But he has endured even more. They’ve torn off almost all the flesh from his back. He began to die.  
\- How do you know? - Theya asked.  
\- So they say. Some girls had washed him while he was dying.

There was a pause. Night cicadas cried fiercely outside the window. Somewhere below, the music was still playing, breaking the night.

\- Did he die? - Brienne asked slowly.

Theos smiled:

\- They gave him live milk. This I know for sure. One of the girls stole a little for me. And he dreamed for a long time. But then he was dressed and taken out of the rooms, many of us then saw him.  
\- It was on that day when they hung up the old mistress.  
\- Why?  
\- The Highest Shadow, or how to call this woman, I don't know... she became our new mistress... she took our houses to herself. Put her soldiers here, and now we all serve her.  
\- They say that before she had served here. She was overcome with a thirst for revenge.  
\- What happened next?  
\- They mounted their horses and rode away. Maybe they will never come here again.  
\- That lame man, did you hear what she called him?  
\- It seems to be no...

Theos said:  
\- I've heard she called him brother. Maybe they are brother and sister? Like us?

Brienne got up and took a sip of water.

\- Was he bound? Chained?  
\- No, - Theya said. - I saw him being lead. He was very limp, but he walked freely. He looked exactly like Theos when live milk stops whispering to him.

\- How is it, I am interesting? - The boy asked resentfully.  
\- As if you feel very bad.  
\- Where did they go?  
\- On North. Very far. She lives on Ibben. She is very rich. With them moved the whole army.

Brienne went to the window and looked out into it. Moths danced in the air, and the air smelled of roses. Sickening, oily smell. She always hated roses.

What will you do with them, Brienne?  
Oh no, she thought. Not you and not now.

But the voice did not disappear:

what will you do with them? They will tell about your interrogation to the first maid who came along, not to mention the steward. This one who got drunk on poppy milk will blab everything.

\- Can you promise me that you won't tell anyone about my questions? - She turned to the children. - Just promise.

They hurriedly nodded their heads, and she was physically hurt by the sight.  
That farmer on the road from Riverrun also seemed harmless to you, wench.

\- If I find out that you’ve been talking to someone, I’ll come back here and kill you, - Brienne looked at Theya. She shrank in fright.

Brienne laid her hand on the sword.

\- First I will kill your brother, right before your eyes, and then I will release the guts from your belly...

She choked on her words and turned away, swallowing tears.

They are no older than Sansa, she almost prayed inside.  
They are hardly older than our Sansa. 

\- We won’t say, - Theya murmured, taking her silence as some kind of horrible sign. - I swear to you, my lady, we will never tell anyone anything!  
\- Good. And I will pay you, remember?

Theya jumped up and threw herself on her knees in front of her. She began to kiss her boots, and Brienne had to bend down and grab her shoulders. She felt that under her fingers she had only thin skin and fragile bones. It was like holding a little bird.

\- I can serve you by myself, but just don't kill my brother, my lady, - Theya begged quickly. - Do you want me to serve? What do you want me to do?

She undid the corset, and Brienne grabbed her hands.

\- Do not. Get dressed. Here.

She grabbed a blanket and threw it over her shoulders.

\- Cover yourself. Like this. Now sit here. I didn't allow you to move, remember?

Theos, dumbfounded, blinked up at her. He sobered from the sudden turn of events but clearly could not say a word.

\- You should listen to me very carefully. I will go out first, and you must count to ten times ten. Then hide the gold that I will give you, look for a better place - and only then go to the steward. Do you understand it? Can you count?

\- Theya knows a few letters, - Theos mumbled after a bemused pause.  
\- Not read, count.

They just stared at her with those huge azure eyes.

Gods, Gods, Gods.

Just do it quickly and graciously, Jaime advised.  
Just shut up, she thought.

A knock at the door seemed to her loud, as a thunder. All three started and stared at each other.

\- Hey! Theya, Theos! There is quiet in your place! Everything is good?  
\- We haven't finished yet, - Brienne snapped.

The door was pushed, and the couch moved with a creak.

\- Why is it blocked?

She turned to the children. They clung to each other, and on their faces, such horror was read that she felt uneasy.

Brienne walked over and kicked the couch aside.

\- I don’t like that the doors could not be locked here, - she said.

The guard entered, he was almost as tall as Brienne. Boredom and disgust were played on his olive colored face. He looked down at the children.

\- What were you doing?

\- Nothing. Nothing, we just... Nothing, master.

He hit Theya in the face, and her head jerked to the side like a broken flower.

\- Don't touch her, - Brienne tried to grab his hand.

\- I asked what this woman did to you here, you dumb slut.

\- Ask me!

He turned to Brienne, and at that moment the sword entered his stomach smoothly and gently. He grunted, threw himself up like a frightened horse - and began to fall. Brienne pulled out her sword and drew it around his neck.

When she turned around, Theos had not moved; he sat mouth open and watching the severed head roll toward his legs. Theya was crying on one high note, her face buried in a blanket. Brienne pulled her hands off and saw that the guard broke her nose, the bone was twisted, and blood poured over her lips and chin.

\- Theos. Give me the water. Give me the damn water! - She shouted at the boy.

He seemed to wake up slowly and finally held out a jug to her. Brienne washed away the blood and gently touched her fingers to the girl’s nose bridge.

\- I'll fix it, but promise me not to twitch, sweetling.

What are you doing, damn wench? Run. Run. Run away from here.  
She heard the steps outside.  
Oh, fuck.   
You can’t go off yourself, you can't leave them here with a guardian's corpse, others will find out very soon. You need to win some time.

Brienne grabbed the children by the arms and dragged them along.  
They slammed the door behind and moved down to the exit in smooth but fast steps. Children were smart enough to keep quiet.

\- Theya! You have blood, - said some maid in passing.  
\- We've started playing, - Brienne snapped. - I broke her nose.  
\- Downstairs in the baths, you can wash, my lady.  
\- All right. There we go.  
\- What about Theos?

Brienne sighed and turned to him. Sorry, she thought. She struck him hard on the face.

\- He needs to sober up. Too much poppy milk.  
\- Oh, it is so like him. The steward will punish you again, Theos.  
\- He better do that, - Brienne almost shoved the talkative girl away. - But first, it will be me.

When they had almost reached the lower halls, Brienne realized that it was utterly unsafe to move on.

\- Show me where is the entrance to the baths, - she ordered Theya.

They passed several corridors winding like a maze, where no one seemed to be surprised at the miserable sight of poor twins after the evening with Brienne. Some looked at her with approving smirks. She was sick of it all, the smell of blood, the smell of rose oil and the hot wind. After they passed the baths she stopped. 

One good although daring idea came into her mind. 

\- Do you have the stables here? Show me the way.

The stables were quiet and huge. The lights were dim here, and the servants were out. She passed several paddocks. Finally, she picked a horse and started to saddle it. 

Theya and Theos dragged behind her, sobbing and sniffing, but still without saying a word.  
Brienne stopped and looked back at them.

\- It will be very dangerous to go further with me. Stay here! Do not go after me anymore.

They looked at her, with those battered faces and disheveled hair. The kohl with which they lined their eyes was now smeared and made them look like two very miserable raccoons.

\- Hide somewhere, - she threw the purse of gold at them, climbing into the saddle. – Find a dark and quiet place, stay there till the morning. Then tell them that I’ve beaten you, you were scared, and you ran away from me in the baths. Hide the gold too. Soon it will be noisy and dangerous around. 

The children nodded, Theya opened the purse and froze, her jaw dropped. Brienne led the horse into the yard. There was already some stir.

\- There she is!  
\- Wants to escape without paying!   
\- She spoiled the goods, bitch!

Torch lights flashed, soldiers fled to them, with crossbows and spears at the ready. Brienne spurred the horse, leaned down, and she swung swiftly over the first row of guards.

\- Come on! – she cried shortly.

Something stuck in the horse’s neck, an arrow or a bolt, and the poor animal reared up. Brienne pulled the reins, and the horse, frightened, hit the guard with its front hooves.

There was a short scream behind her and she turned her head. Theos, apparently trying to follow her, sat on another horse, and now the crossbow bolt hit the boy right in the chest. Poor boy. Silly boy. It was an accident, she thought detached and through the strange fog in her head. 

They were aiming at Brienne, but she was just moving much faster.

You can't help them. Don't look back, wench.  
Not your fault. Not your fault. Not your fault, do you hear me?

Theya was swaying on her knees, she clasped her head with her small blood-covered hands. Theos tilted limply, slid off the horse's back, and fell beside his sister.

Golden coins rolled on the ground around them.


	6. Fearless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- Your one-armed man again got into trouble, and again you are helping him. You're too soft, woman. Your heart is soft, unlike your body. See, he let you down again.

She saw them in her dreams, many nights after. In these dreams, she turned around and saw Jaime Lannister falling from a horse, and on the ground next to him his sister was crying. The horror was replaced by remorse, pity, and she stopped every time, realizing that the arrows now fly straight at her, and she was unable to move.

People from the outskirts of Volantis, those who were not afraid to speak to her, warned her that the roads along the river are as dangerous as the Demons Road. However, to Brienne’s surprise, the places here were quite harmless. Essos has always been shaken by war, but now there has been a relative lull. Whether it was calm before the other storm or a long peace, Brienne could only speculate. The lands along the river were plowed and planted, and the peasants were already harvesting. They gathered grapes, olives, sweet berries, and almonds. Wheat sheaves laid on the golden fields, scorched under the hot sun. Fishing boats glided along the river, and carts full of a variety of goods rolled south and north along the road.

In one of the taverns, her horse was bandaged, and then Brienne had to stay for a few days to wait for her complete recovery. It was a beautiful black mare, elegant and well-trained. Brienne could exchange her for another horse, but she was haunted by the feeling that leaving the poor animal behind, she would betray her. The same way she betrayed the poor twins...

On hot nights, waking up in a bed wet from sweat, she sat down and gasped for breath. The deafening crash of cicadas poured into the windows, and Brienne sat there for a long time, engulfed in her longing, meaninglessly staring at the darkness smelling of flowers, oil, and honey.

Sometimes, throwing a cloak over her shoulders, and just in case fastening her sword to her belt, she went out to the courtyard and looked into the starry sky above her. The stars here were larger than on the west coast, they shimmered so brightly, shamelessly, the sky was overflow with them.

When she set off again, the road eventually became more and more deserted. Well-kept fields and orchards were replaced by long wastelands, where nothing but wild herbs grew. The road last time made a big loop, and went away from the river, skirting the high hills covered with pines and cypresses. Evening shadows stretch from the hills, carving out blue patches in bright meadows.

She remembered a hot evening on Tarth, when, pregnant with her youngest daughter, she sat on the edge of a small waterfall. Her walks in the mountains were soon to be ended, her stomach was already preventing her from moving, stooping, and she was in a hurry to enjoy the last days of her freedom. She was always thirsting for movement, whether riding a horse, or walking, or training with a sword. With children, she sometimes rushed through the galleries, engaging in their games, forgetting about her height and size, because it didn’t matter for children whether she was big or small, and they loved her for who she was and were utterly delighted when she played with them.  
Jaime brought her here, to this small, enchanting place between two rocks, where waterfalls, usually stormy and powerful on the island, broke on stone terraces and became quiet and gentle. Below, they gathered in lakes covered with willows and water lilies. It was always cool here, and the blue shadows swayed over the grass like a flying carved canopy.  
Brienne put her feet in the water and watched the little fish swim around. Jaime sat down next to her and hugged her with one hand, putting hot fingers on the place where her neck was connected to her shoulder. He loved to kiss this place. There, the white scars from the bear's claws did not disappear completely, but Jaime kissed them and stroked with the same tenderness as the smooth skin of her chest or stomach.  
Then for the first time, he told her that.

\- I love you, - and there was silence, in which there were only birds singing and chanting cicadas in the grass, and a slight gliding of dragonflies on the pond's surface.

She was not taken aback, she was not even surprised.  
I know, the words almost escaped her lips.

After a lingering pause, Jaime pressed his face to her neck.

\- I love you, - he repeated calmly as if only to confirm what was said. - You smell like a home. You smell like everything that I love.

\- I ... I love you, too, - she finally decided.

And suddenly he laughed. He began to kiss her nape and neck, and vertebrae and his hand slipped to the laces of her huge dress, in which she was now hiding her belly.

\- Why are you laughing, Jaime?  
\- We're like awkward secret lovers, - he said. - You blushed again. Seventh Hell, Brienne, you are redder than cherries!

She lowered her head in embarrassment.  
\- Why? We have already made five kids, - his smile only became wider. - Hey, look at me. Please.

Brienne obediently turned to him.

He touched her chin with his fingers and gently ran his thumb from the corner of her lips to her neck:

\- This is so stupid, - he said. - I should have confessed to you earlier. You should too, wench.  
\- Pro... probably.  
\- I love your blue eyes and your tender lips, - he declared solemnly. - And these damn little tits. And this bright hair. And this sweet nose tip. And these cute freckles. And those long legs. And this beautiful belly. And those delicate fingers.

His hand fumbled hers and he brought her palm to his lips.

\- And all that you are.

They undressed and entered the water, and he lifted her in his arms, in the water she was light, and it was not difficult for him to even with one hand. Her hair swam in the water, swayed, weightless. She liked to feel the touches of his hard muscles, his hot skin, milky white under the shirt and golden on his chest and where he rolled up his sleeves.  
Those touches separated from her by a thin envelope of water, became tender and barely perceptible, it was like a flight, their bodies were touching as if by chance, so easily, delicately. He was circling her, holding her, while she was lying on her back, her stomach was protruding above the smooth surface of the water, and she should have been embarrassed, but she liked it.

And it would have been better for them to continue gently, with the same stunning delicacy, but his confessions enkindled their feelings, and, barely getting out to the shore, they began to kiss eagerly and hotly. Brienne had to get on all fours because the stomach was already an obstacle to choose a position more elegant or gentler. They connected like animals. Like those shameless creatures that do it without any embarrassment under the canopy of the forest or right in the open field. There was something honest and perceant about it.

She then remembered the touches of cool moss on her cheekbones and lips, and the small stones under her fingers, the smell of moist leaves, the shadows that swayed around, in those green twilight. Their moans were not heard by anyone, so they freed themselves, and her cry frightened away some bird in the branches. And then the butterfly sat on her shoulder, Jaime told her, laughing, later - this blue butterfly on white skin, he said, was like the last drop that falls and breaks the weir. He came, after holding out just a little longer than his wife.

Why we were so happy, she thought. After all, it was so unsophisticated, so easy. She had been taught all her life that happiness should be earned, that nothing would be given for nothing (if at all), especially to such an ugly girl as she. Become more obedient, become more polite, become more gentle, remain silent, keep your mouth shut, low your eyes, be grateful, nod, cajole, smile, but do not show your crooked teeth, submit, agree, appear less, or even disappear completely out of sight... 

But happiness was so close. So simple.

She was loved for nothing, just for that she is, and she didn’t do anything for it. She just loved back.  
The road, lined with valiryan stones, almost lost in the tall grass. Brienne's gaze rested on a sea of grass, yellow from the scorching sun, all the way to the horizon. The black horse was wandering wearily, brushing aside the horseflies, sighing and lowering her head. Brienne gave her a drink and then drank herself the water from the reserves, carefully estimating how much more she would prolong if she did not find a stream or river. She was warned that the way through the grass would be long and difficult, and she wisely stocked up with water, wine, and dried meat. However, the road now seemed to her endless and lonely. Sometimes she came across peasants, they shepherded goats and sheep, and looked very frightened and exhausted. Most of them were moving from north to south, probably in search of better places, and it was hard not to understand them.

A week later, Brienne took off her armor and remained in only her thin silk shirt and breeches. She walked beside the horse, just as dull as the mare, tired, looking down at her feet, trying not to lose the rare road stones from the view.

Three days later, she looked up and saw a yellow-gray cloud rising in the clear blue sky above the horizon. Taking it as a thunderstorm, at first she was even glad, but the air did not smell like rain. It smelled of dust and danger.  
The cloud grew and filled the sky, and suddenly Brienne realized that the sea of people was moving towards her. The earth barely noticeably buzzed, shuddered, and a distant noise rushed through the grass like the roar of the sea.

Khalasar.

There was no point in hiding. They walked in broad rank, dark against the background of grass bleached from the heat, and she swift fastened her armor and returned to the saddle. Then she hastily gathered her hair at the back of her head and cleaved it with a gold pin.

The first horsemen approached and immediately took her into the ring. They circled, as if vultures were above the prey, and mockingly said something to her, but she looked silently straight ahead. She did not know their language anyway. Well, she knew a few words but had already forgotten after so many years...

Thinking so, she just obediently moved after them.

After some time, she realized that she was being led to the center. She noticed women and children, some carts covered with grass mats. Dothraki again said something to her, they laughed aloud, but she was quite able to survive it. What she is unlikely to survive in the battle if it comes to waving arakhs and the Cursed Gift.

\- You're still alive, stupid woman.

She looked up in amazement. Hosho, in person, was seated on an excellent, dapple-bay horse, and regarded her with his dark smiling eyes. His hair was covered with snow-white stripes, his face was cut by wrinkles. But he was handsome in his own way, with this noble tenue of a born rider and mocking lips, which now could hardly pronounce the sounds of the strange language. Yet he tried very hard.

\- You didn't forget our tongue, - Brienne remarked.  
\- Almost forgot, - he admitted. - But you never knew mine.  
\- Yes, - she said. - You did better.

He ordered something, and the circle around Brienna broke up. The physically tangible sense of danger has disappeared. Hosho drove up to her and took his fingers over her chin.

\- You haven't changed, - he said approvingly.  
\- You too.

He laughed. The riders around looked at him with obvious reverence, but, turning round, he said a few words to the nearest young man. He snorted and laughed. Laughter ran through their ranks. Brienne, not understanding, looked around.

\- I told them that you still consider me handsome. But I am old. My wives died. I lived for a long time. If you want me, you'll have to be gentle to me.

\- I'm so sorry, Hosho. About your family… But they did wait for you?

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. In his entire life, perhaps no one had so plainly expressed sympathy for him, Brienne thought. These people were tough, like a stone, but in their hearts, there was a lot of naive softness, almost childish.

\- Not every, - he said, after a pause. - When I returned, they were taken away from me. Other Khals or Pale Mare. I was able to take them away from the Khals, but no one can take anything away from death. My children have grown up and wandered with me. And others betrayed me and wander under strangers. And died. Wrong was me. Everyone must make mistakes, then pay.

That's true, she thought with sadness.

\- That baby, is he still alive?  
\- Do you still remember him? Alive, - she said with a short smile. - Alive and great. Strong and handsome. He became even taller than me.

Hosho shook his head approvingly.

\- You gave birth to a big warrior, woman. There is more power in your womb and between your legs than in any of my soldiers. This is a great wealth.

Khalasar got up for the night right in the sea of grass. They put down tents, lit a fire and began to cook, wash their clothes, fix their harness and sing. The camp turned out huge, stretched and very noisy. Hosho invited Brienne to his ornate tent. She sat on the fur skins spread on the floor and gratefully accepted the bowl with the cool mare's milk from the maid.

\- Where are you going? - He asked her, looking lazy from under his eyelashes, while the maidservants, not at all embarrassed by either Brienne or their owner, stripped him and rubbed him from head to foot with rags of a damp cloth.

\- On North. On the island of Ib.

He frowned.

\- What is it there? What have you lost there?  
\- My husband. He was captured.

Hosho gestured the maids to leave. He pulled a blanket over his loins, and lay back on the pillows piled on his wide bed:

\- Where you come from, you need to cover yourself in front of women.

Brienne, without batting an eye, retorted:

\- I'm your guest.  
\- Right. I will do everything not to scare you, - he grinned, showing his beautiful teeth. - I have something to scare women.

She smiled meekly, never taking her eyes off his face.

\- Your one-armed man again got into trouble, and again you are helping him, - Hosho said with regret. - Will you always save him? He is unworthy of you.  
\- We had seven children. We have lived together for two decades.  
\- You shouldn't have spread your legs for him, - Hosho stated stubbornly. - You're too soft, woman. Your heart is soft, unlike your body. See, he let you down again.

Brienne did not argue.  
Hosho has always had his special opinion about Jaime.

\- Wherever you go, - Hosho proceeded, taking a sip of wine from a high golden bowl, - it's very difficult to survive. You will be lost. You won't even get to New Ibbish.  
\- Why?

He gazed at the high vaults of the tent. Brienne noticed that he was nervous. She felt both anxious and curious. Hosho, according to her observations, was not a coward.

\- The Khals previously conquered those lands, - he finally said. - But times have changed. Now they conquer us. Buy for gold and stones, like whores. Many began to serve Ib as they had forgotten the honor of their ancestors. However, others could say that the Khals had been raped even earlier, by the Mother of Dragons. Disgraced forever. After all, we had to go there to your place, we did it ourselves. But we were taken to the slaughter. That was supposed to teach us.

\- Khals serve Ib? - asked Brienne. - Are there many?

\- More than half of those I know. And all the northern khalasars. Now they are robbing the forest kingdom, but before they were given Morosh, they were even promised to get Lorath. Maybe they even get to Braavos. Maybe they will not conquer them, only buy. People there have forgotten how to protect themselves. Only know how to count coins. The old city of the High People, Tagaez Fen, still stands. Saath still hopes to bargain with the Great Whore of Shadows.

\- With whom?

\- On Ib now a woman rules. Consul of Shadows died, leaving a widow, who started these changes. There are rumors, she killed him with some kind of cunning poison, at first he became distraught, and then killed himself being delirious. He appointed her to avenge himself, and she executed many, under these reasons. All those who prevented her from establishing power. We live in a strange world. Women rule us by spreading their legs or ringing a golden coin.

Brienne placed the bowl on the floor.

\- But many refused to serve?  
\- There’s not a lot of us, - Hosho said reluctantly. - We run, we run south, because the northern Khals promised her our heads.

\- Why did you refuse? - She asked directly.

Hosho pondered, obviously choosing the words.

\- This woman ... I saw her, I stood before her in Ibben's old castle. She speaks affectionately, as beautiful as a doe or a flower, but poison splashes in her eyes. She speaks like Khaleesi, but Khaleesi I remember, and I remember how she differed from this one. There was no poison in the girl. She spoke directly, always opened her heart, even if she was afraid.

\- Was it the reason for your refusal?

He squinted at her.

\- And you're not so stupid, woman. She executed my two sons. They were hostages. Two others were executed later when she realized that I would never agree to serve this whore. Two stayed, betrayed and agreed to serve her. I had a daughter, the youngest and the beloved, and she gave her to be raped not even to the khalasar, but the dirty Ibbenese. She has no dragons, no magic, she cannot kindle arrakhs, she cannot lead an army, she has only two gifts. To pay and to torture. But in this art, she surpassed everyone I know.

\- And you escaped, - said Brienne.

\- I stole my people. We could not fight. Too many of them. All my children who were still on my side I took with me. And this filthy packs, they gather there, like hungry dogs, from all the lands of the north. Mark my word, woman. This whore does not calm down until it covers the whole world. 

\- I have to help my husband. No matter how dangerous on Ib, I have no other way.

\- You will die without even getting there. You will die on the road.

In the morning she found Hosho has gone somewhere and she had her breakfast alone. The maids brought a huge wooden tub from somewhere and gestured to her that they intended to take a bath. She had to share a bath with several girls, and they move back and forth, dragging jugs of warm water, and washed their clothes. They giggled and splashed water. Soon under the arches of the tent stood a wet mist. Brienne washed her hair and allowed the girls to braid them in the Dothraki manner. They looked at her body with a smile, touched her breasts, and rattled something. Her breasts remained meager, as Jaime had once inelegantly put it, and with time they sagged from giving birth and nursing. The girls, however, liked them, like everything in her - she was something of a huge doll for them, and they looked at her point-blank, with children's curiosity. Her soft belly and these slightly hanging breasts with large nipples, and long legs, and a bush of golden hair on her pubis. They rubbed her with bunches of silk and smeared her all over with some kind of fragrant oil, it smelled of fresh grass and lavender.

Two girls, naked, began to play with each other and, eventually, merged into a very equivocal kiss. Others began to shower them with the petals of wildflowers and shout out words of approval. Brienne got dressed, trying not to look at these games. These people were adults, and yet they were children, their shamelessness and naivety intertwined, just as they intertwine in very beautiful animals, in cats or horses.

She sat down to the side and drank herbal tea. The girls fool around a little more, and then they were driven away by their more pragmatic companions. Brienne grinned involuntarily. 

You get softer with age, wench, she thought.  
With age, or becoming a mother.

Gerion and Galladon once rushed to her with their eyes full of indignation. Shameful and triumphant smirks roamed their faces. Under a big secret, they told her that Catelyn had kissed Theona Greyjoy. At first, she dismissed them, busy with examining the armor in a large stock. But the boys fled around and tried, desperately jumping and gesticulating, to explain everything to her up to the end.  
\- Girls often kiss each other, and hug, - Brienne snapped irritably. - They are softer than boys. And stop bothering me!  
\- You do not understand! They are kissing! Kissing on the lips! - they jabbered almost in unison.

Brienne had to turn to them and brush the fallen strand of hair from her face.

\- How do you know that?  
\- They were in the harbors and they thought no one saw them.  
\- They thought so in vain, yes? You are everywhere. To spy is bad.  
\- We are not doing this on purpose.  
\- Purposely or not, find a job more interesting than spying on your sisters.  
\- Doesn't it bother you what they did?

She thought: well, of course. And badly. And then she said:

\- No. Whatever you see there, you are still too young to judge. And do not try to chat about this with your father.  
\- Why?

Because he will be even less pleased with this news, she thought.

\- Because it's Cat’s private affair. Do you understand? Private life. Remember this expression. People have their personal affairs, about which outsiders, and especially children, do not need to know. I find out that you have blabbed - you both will sit locked for half a year at least.

They pouted and for long after dragged behind her, repeating, like two parrots, that everything happened completely by accident and that they entrusted this secret only to her, and that the girls did not kiss each other like that, you know, but right on the lips ...

She heard that Yara Greyjoy prefers ladies to men, but she'd never expected that the daughter could inherit these inclinations of the mother.

However, she thought with some confusion, do not our children inherit our virtues and vices? At least to some extent, but we give them what we are ourselves, be it good or bad.

As for Cat's kiss, she was never able to figure out which side, bad or good, to attribute it to. She was glad that the girl had fallen in love for the first time in her life, and she seemed to be loved in return.

The fear that King Bran spoke of was only a reflection of her fears. She never wished for the daughter the same fate that she had in her youth. Brienne always stood jealously on her side and guarded her against any cruelty, jokes, smirks, words and sidelong glances. And Cat also had a father who adored her without any measure, and brothers and sisters - they all loved her selflessly. Had her will, Brienne would have broken all the mirrors in the castle so that Cat would never see herself in them...  
But she needed the truth. Not for the sake of hardening of the soul, just to know yourself. As Brienne of Tarth had once found out the truth about herself to the very end, so her daughter had to go her own way.  
But it happened so that Theona, the little daughter of the Iron Islands, became her truth.

Brienne decided to let go of everything, stop grabbing at her piety and maternal anxieties. And then the dark times came, the sea burned - and they all were not up to Theona and her kisses with the youngest daughter of the Lannisters.

If I had told Jaime, she thought suddenly.

He was sometimes even more stubborn than she. He always disliked Theona a little. And yet she thought she knew him better now than she did then.

He would have received the news with the fortitude of the knight, she decided. He always told her that Catelyn had to become as loved, as happy as Brienne.

He spoke with such confidence, and she believed him...

Khal Hosho returned, accompanied by two young men. Brienne stood up and carefully bowed to him.

\- You slept well, and I didn't wake you up.  
\- Thank you. I’ve rested, I’ve gained strength, and I should ...  
\- You should change your horse if you're still going north.  
\- I'm going to.  
\- Alone?  
\- Yes. It seems that it is written to me to travel to the north to my kin, - she smiled warily. - I will accept the horse gratefully.

\- The one that you had is too tender for such roads. She is from Volantis. She was kept for beautiful trips and short races. She is very beautiful, but she will die with you on this path. You have already wounded her hoofs badly.

Brienne nodded.

He gestured the young men and the maids to the exit from the tent and snapped his fingers. They hurried out, leaving Brienne alone with Hosho.

\- Do not go there, - he said, looking straight into her face, - I did not wish you to die before, I don’t want to know about it now. She will torture you, tear off your skin or worse.  
\- I can handle all by myself.  
\- Stubborn woman. Stupid woman.  
\- Hosho, I...  
\- You could stay with me. Wait until the clouds gather. Then we could go there together.

Brienne raised her eyebrows in surprise.  
\- What are you talking about?

\- There is a man known as the Black Wing. Nobody knows what he looks like, who he is. He is an Ibbeni. He is hiding somewhere in the north, even further than Ib, or in your country. Maybe he sails on ships, moving from one to another. It is always shrouded in mystery. He gathers Ibbenese, on all the seas and ports, sends them messages, sends them words.

Hosho walked over to the chest, opened it, and took out a scroll.

Brienne picked up and saw the runic signs.

\- It's in their language. It was given to me in the north. But he also sent letters to many lords and consuls of Braavos, Lorath, Saath, Morosh, Pentos. Many betrayed him, reported him the Whore of Shadows, but many were silent.

\- What is he writing?

\- He calls on free Ibbenese to overthrow the power of this woman. Encourages lords everywhere in the north to help Ib become free. To kill oneself is considered a great sin for these people, and after the death of the consul, many began to trend to his side. He sent his people everywhere, they conduct secret conversations among sailors and soldiers. He called on the Khals to join him, but we are now too weak. They say that he even got to Iqefevron. The local kings wish the death of the new Ibben owner, like all of us... She did a lot to make them angry. Forest people were always driven into slavery, but they started selling yellow-eyed people like beer or honey — openly, cheaply, everywhere.

\- So, - Brienne said slowly, - a riot is ripening?

\- It is still very far away, woman. I think where Braavos will turn, everything will be decided. If Braavos supports the rebels from Ib, the Whore of Shadows will get what she deserves. If it turns out the other way, you will not envy the Black Wing. But sooner or later one of them will challenge another, and they will fight. Unless her spies find him and kill him. He thinks he is fighting for his homeland. She... she has something to lose now. But you and I will know in time where the wind is blowing. We Dothraki always know that. And then we will return there, and I will avenge my sons, and kill those who betrayed me. And you will save your husband.

\- I can't wait that long, - she said sadly.

With an exasperated sigh, Hosho threw the scroll into the chest.

\- What good is it to be able to read or speak your language, if you still can’t hear me. And if you hear, you do not want to understand.

\- I understand you.

He sat down to the low table, legs crossed, and poured himself a cup of wine.

\- I will give you two warriors, they will take you to Sarnor, bypassing the mountains, straight across the Khal Rho Sea. There you should go to Saath. If they let you into the city, you may be allowed to board the ship to Ib. They trade with the Whore, still counting to pass between the raindrops. My warriors will not let the blood of Khal Rho rape or kill you. Maybe all three of you will be robbed, but at least you will be left alive. I was on good terms with him before I moved south. He wanted to give his younger sister to me. He did not swear to Ib and did not give his soldiers there, but he did not want to fight with them. Maybe he is the wisest of us now... He does not have to lead his Khalasars to nowhere.

\- Hosho, - Brienne said. - You are doing the right thing by saving your people. You are a good person. But I can not accept your offer, I will not take anybody with me. I am not good at leading people.

\- I saw you there in the battle against the dead.  
\- No, it was different. I…

She remembered the bloodied faces and twins' blue eyes, full of incomprehension, defenseless, wide open.

Hosho noticed her confusion.

\- You behaved bravely, with a dignity, woman.

\- I can’t. I don't want to let anyone down. I do not want anyone else to die next to me. I can no longer live with it, - she finally uttered.

He draggled, finished the wine and poured again.

\- You worry too much about others, - he finally sneered. - My warriors were born to fight and die if it comes to that. They are not little boys. You should not see the reflections of your children in their faces.

She shuddered at his frankness.

\- Sit down. Eat before you go.

Sitting next to him, Brienne sadly stared at the jugs of wine and plates of roasted meat.

\- Take a food with you, - Hosho ordered with his mouth full. - As much as can you carry. Dothraki Sea is cruel. It will seem calm and peaceful to you, but there is no food there. There is no water. I will order my soldiers to lead you along with the spurs of Quohor, but it is dangerous to approach them. From the spurs sometimes run streams, so that you do not die of thirst.

She barely listened to him, lost in sad memories.

\- Eat, - he said, when he did not get her answer.

When Brienne finally reluctantly extended her hand to the plates, Hosho wiped his fingers on the tablecloth. He reached out and pulled the golden hairpin out of her hair. The braids scattered and fell on her shoulders, and Brienne looked up in dismay.

\- Do not be afraid - Hosho grinned. - I would never force you. I love only those who openly wish to implant their flesh on my spear. But I want to leave something to remember you.

He kissed the golden sun and carefully stuck a pin into the leather lapel of his vest.

\- When they tell me about your death, I will cry over you, - he noticed calmly.

The warriors, whom Hosho gave to accompany her, did not speak a common language. They were both young, not older than Podrick. Their impassive faces were handsome, but it was not possible to read something in them. Brienne had to speak, backing up her words with gestures: forward, back, stop. Their obedience, however, also had its limits. When they came upon Khal Rho's scouts, they explained something to them, exchanging grins and jokes in their language. One of the scouts touched his groin and they all exploded in laughter. 

But, as promised, they were not touched on the way.

After five days of traveling through the sea of grass, they finally saw the walls of a large city in the distance. It rose above the ruins, its white walls and golden domes floating in a bluish haze. Brienne felt a cold wind blowing in her face: the sea was breathing ahead. Several smaller rivers spread over a flat plane, and between shores, in the grass, she saw some rocks, tilted statues, and fragments of stone fences.

One of the Dothraki spoke to her, and in the end, he began to repeat one phrase again and again, almost in a syllable, as if talking to an unreasonable child:

\- Tagaez Fen. Tagaez Fen.

She nodded. Big people. Tall people.  
Both Dothraki did not want to go further. She has regretted to farewell them and decided to pay them at least with what she had. 

They took a purse of gold, and, flashing white teeth in dazzling smiles, turned back.

\- Be careful, - she almost shouted after them.

And for a long time, she watched as they moved, turning into two dark dots on hills.  
\- What's your name?

She looked at the girl who was sitting on a long carved bench on the dais in front of her. She was taller than Brienne if she stood. Her brown skin glistened like satin. Gray eyes, framed by curved eyelashes, looked with bored curiosity. Dark hair was laid around her head in a kind of crown. Brienne had seen many beautiful people in her life, but this one was the most beautiful of them. Her simple black dress only emphasized graceful build and impeccable posture. Her name was Jahata Alexi, and she, according to those who brought her here, to the inner chambers, ruled the city of Tall People.

\- Brienne Lannister.  
\- Where are you from?  
\- From the Tarth Island.  
\- You traveled so far. What for?

Her accent was very soft, she pronounced all the vowels slightly stretching.

\- I wanted to ask you to give me a place on the ship going to the island of Ib.  
\- And what can a woman from Tarth Island look for on Ib Island? These are different ends of the earth.  
\- My husband is there.  
\- Why?  
\- He is being held hostage.

Jahata was silent for a moment. She called one of the military, and he respectfully leaned towards the princess. They spoke in a whisper.

Brienne looked around. Alexi’s palace was desolate, and no one seemed to be able to stop it. In some places, grass made its way through cracks in the marble floor. Sunlight fell in the gaps of high roofs.

\- You cannot go against the Shadow Widow.  
\- And yet I will try.  
\- We are not enemies to Ib.  
\- I, too, am not an enemy of a whole nation. I just want to get my husband back.  
\- Will you give them a ransom?  
\- If necessary.  
\- And what do you have?

Brienne was embarrassed. The gold in her bag was dissolved as she moved north, and yet she could show them some coins.

\- This sword? - Alexi suggested. - Your armor is good, but the sword is excellent.

Brienne lowered her eyes.

\- No, - Tagaez Fen remarked, - you will not give it away. You will fight them with a sword.

Again she called her warriors to her, and again they spoke among themselves. Finally, Alexi said something sharply, and everyone stepped aside.

\- They let you in only because you seemed to my soldiers to be one of us. But you are not. Your skin is white and your hair is like snow. You can't stay here for long.

One of the warriors stepped forward and said something sharply to her. She shrugged irritably.

\- They also say that you had two Dothraki.  
\- They've returned south.  
\- Why were they with you?  
\- They were given to accompany me. I had to pass the Grass Sea.  
\- Are you friends with the Khals?  
\- No, but…

Maybe, she thought. Now it’s hard to say who your enemy is, who is your friend.

\- We hate them. We have not forgotten, and we will never forget, how the Dothraki stole Tall People to sell in the south. Many of our sons have become Unsullied and will never return here to their true home. If they return, death will follow them.

Brienne remembered Big Ape. His face really looked like the faces of this people - arrogant, with dark skin, with these high cheekbones and beautifully curved lips.

\- I knew different people, - Brienne said, when it became clear that an answer was expected from her. - I knew benevolent Dothraki and the miserable traitors, cruel cowards from the most noble families of the North. One cannot condemn a whole people, just like a whole family can not be judged.

Alexi laughed shortly.

\- You are very naive, a woman from Tarth Island. All your troubles are still to come. But if you wish, we will fulfill your request. In the harbor, jasper is loaded onto the Fearless ship. You can join them and live your last days saving your husband. This will be your last lesson. We will not give you protection, and you are responsible for yourself as soon as your foot sets on the shore of Ibben.

She was taken to a room prepared for the night. Brienne thought and decided that, most likely, they expect to bargain on Ib for her head. Their generosity and willingness to help would not have gone so far if they had not had their own plans. Khal Hosho warned her that the people of Saath were trying to maintain independence from Ib, and even bargain for something. But, due to the extremely meager situation around, it was clear that they did not achieve success. They will pay whenever they can and however they can.

It would be better if they entered into a fair fight, she thought bitterly. She sat on a narrow bed covered with horse skins, and wearily unfastened the straps on her armor. They brought her some water and a plate with bread and cheese. If the Tall People considered her a valuable captive, they did not emphasize this at all - neither her value, nor her captivity.

A cold sea wind blew through the window, but the smell of salt and algae was even pleasant to her. These places were distinguished by the extreme meagerness of nature, and human wealth was not noted here for a long time. The city, from afar majestic, made a depressing impression nearby. It was half ruined.

Its main decorations were only the huge golden dome over the palace, and the people around. They were tall and dark-faced, slender, strict, laconic, invariably dressed in black. For all her life, Brienne had never been in the places where every man looked down at her, and every woman was a little taller than her.

She locked the door from the inside and lay down, with pleasure stretched out on a hard bed. Her height would have previously hindered her, as in any Westeros tavern - but here the beds were to match the inhabitants of the city.

She fell asleep under the howl of the sea wind in the stones, and in a dream she saw herself in the Kings Landing. She stood in front of the white throne, and saw that the faces of her children were carved on it. She recognized Joanna's flawless oval, the spots on Catelyn’s pockmarked face, and Sansa’s tender smile. And the two faces of the twins, merged into one indistinguishable, and the chiseled features of Arthur, and the open, honest face of Podrick. Red streams ran from their eyes and mouths, and, coming up, she touched the tar with her finger.

And she saw that it was blood.

Choking, she woke up and with a jerk sat up in bed. She felt dither.

The room became dark, the candle burned out, the air was moist and cold. She found her travel bag and pulled out a flint, lit another candle. Looking out the window, Brienne saw that in the east the sky brightened and covered with a pinkish veil.

In the harbors, the soldiers took her to the ship Alexi had told her about. In the cool air of the early morning puffs steam fell off their lips.

\- Why is it called Fearless? - Brienne looked at the high tarred broadsides.

\- You will find out for yourself, - one of the warriors grinned. - When you pass the storm before Ibben.


	7. Dumb cow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now you’ve made sure that he is alive and well, and feels great. Is it not enough for a stupid loving heart? Do not people like you learn to be happy with the smallest things? Have you not been taught not to claim to those who are no match for you?

She still felt nauseous, and the world swayed beneath her feet as the ship approached the dirty pier. She spent several days in a sea storm without food and water, because she was sick of everything that only touched her throat. There was a bitter aftertaste in her mouth, and it seemed like forever.

Port of Ibben was a gloomy place. The wind drove scraps of fog from the sharp rocks surrounding it, the sea waves seemed lead-gray under the faint rays of the cold sun. Whaling ships and tarred boats glided around, there were several southern ships, she noticed Braavos standards and colorful flags of the Free Cities. There were even a few ships from the Slave Traders Bay. The winds smelled of fish, tar, and burning. 

Stone houses of several floors, curved and dark with soot, stuck around the embankment and went up along the mouth of the river in long, dull rows. Between the roofs here and there, wooden scaffolds were hung, on which locals dried fishing nets and clothes. 

Dogs barked, traders shouted, carts creaked, conversations in crowds of sailors buzzed in different languages.

Cliffs towered above all this in a gray and black mash, and in the distance, on boulders covered with green moss, the inner abode of the rulers sat - the Palace of Shadows, the ancient stronghold of the God-King. Its black stones were even now impressive. It was surrounded, as they said, by a high wall, but above it, Brienne saw many towers sticking out to the sky with sharp roofs. They now wore thin scarlet flags. The flags trembled in the wind, swayed in the fog.

She went ashore and immediately felt a new attack of dry vomiting. The smell of rotting fish beat right in the face. The mall was made of stone, long and slippery, with wooden walkways that ran in different directions. The sea eagerly licked flimsy black piles.

She was surprised that she was allowed into the stronghold, but her luck seemed to end there. Everywhere there were warriors, Ibbenese in fur cloaks and Dothraki, who rattled weapons with arrogant faces, and mercenaries with white skin. In the courtyard, she saw rows of horsemen and soldiers forming. Jerky orders in different languages were heard.

\- If you want to go further, undress, - the bright-haired soldier in a gold cloak ordered her.

She stared at him silently.

\- Are you deaf? Take off your armor and give me your weapons. Start with the sword.  
\- I won't ...

He turned to the other soldiers.

\- The whore wants a high price.

Brienne grabbed the hilt of the Cursed Gift and immediately felt that a sharp tip was placed at the back of her neck. A spear, she thought in slow amazement.  
\- Take off your fucking armor, not your dress, - the soldier repeated impatiently. - I don't need to see your miserable tits and a flat ass. I need to secure the passage.

She slowly began to untie the cords of her shoulder pads. She was driven up by insults, and, finally, under the general clamor, surrounded by the gathered crowd, she dropped her armor to the floor. The Dothraki were more impatient. One of them groped a belt fastener on her waist and tore off the belt and scabbard from her. They searched her, rightly believing that she could not do with one sword, and pulled a thin dagger from her boot.

In the end, satisfied, pushing her in the back with the tips of the spears, they led her to the courtyard of the stronghold. She remained only in her silk shirt, breeches, and boots. Wind from the sea under the high black walls circled in small evil vortices and chilled her skin.

She saw a large gate that led to a passage made in a stone wall, wide, able to skip the cavalry in five rows. It was long and dark and reminded her of the passage through the Wall in the Black Castle.

When the soldiers led her through it, it smelled of old mold and rain around, and of damp stones on which nothing grew. On the other side the light of a short day touched her skin again, and, turning, she looked up. The galleries were teeming with soldiers of all stripes. This place was not an inhabited castle, but only a stronghold for numerous warriors, who were called here by the gold of the Consul. Or his wife's.

\- Go ahead, don’t look back, - one of the mercenaries pushed her in the back with the sword.

There were huge gates, decorated with gold lining in the form of lion heads. This gold made a strange contrast with a tarred tree, black and ancient, wiped out by rains and storms centuries ago.

Two guards began to open the gates, and finally, they parted, slowly creaking and leaving deep semicircular scars in the ground. Birds fluttered from the wall and darted up to the white misty sky.

Behind the gate a stone staircase was seen, jagged by time and water, with wide steps, the number is not less than a dozen.

She heard some noise above, and soon horses appeared on the upper court. There were at least ten riders. One of them, in a golden cloak, tall, with glistened brown skin, dismounted and hurriedly descended the steps.

\- Lady Brienne, - he said with a friendly smile. - I hope you've traveled well?

Stunned, she looked him up and down. His black leather jacket was embroidered with golden cords. On his belt, she noticed an arrakh and a sword in an elegant sheath of tooled leather. His hair, thick and pitch black, was braided with silk ribbons.  
He saw her confusion.

\- I apologize. I didn’t introduce myself. - He bowed slightly. - My name is Neineo Alexi.

That is how everything is resolved, she thought wearily. Her head was sold before she even stepped aboard the Fearless.

\- You are very pale, - Neineo politely remarked. - Was the road difficult?  
\- We were hit a storm.  
\- That was to be expected. You sailed from the west, the currents in the Shivering Sea are nightmares, especially at this time of the year.  
\- Don't you know that, - she remarked grimly.

He just smiled wider.

\- Did you seriously expect that Saath would not accept such an opportunity? Lucky us. You are a great gift to my people, Lady Brienne.

\- Unless it is a cursed gift, - she muttered stubbornly.

\- Please take my thanks, - Neineo said solemnly, not noticing her insolence, or pretending not to notice.

\- So traitors know how to be thankful?

Neineo frowned slightly but did not give her an answer. The Dothraki brought her sword. Neineo drew the Cursed Gift from its scabbard and examined with undisguised admiration.

\- I was informed that you are not as simple as you seem. Is it Valyrian steel? Where did you get it?

Brienne decided not to talk to him anymore. Neineo behaved and spoke extremely courteously, but behind all this, something dark stood, something that frightened her more than hordes of soldiers around and the dark stones.

\- You seem to hold a grudge against me? Not worth it. We can be friends; - he put the sword back and fastened to his belt.  
\- I know you. I saw people like you, - she snapped.  
\- Really? Then you should know how dangerous we are. - His dazzling smile made a frightening contrast with the words. - But I don't want to hurt you. Come with us. We'll take you where you are so eager to get. There is a long way to go. Hey Ren! Give her a cloak.

The little Ibenese hurriedly run to her and handed Brienne a long cloak. Black silk was lined with snow-white ermine fur.

\- You won’t survive on the road unless you wear it, - Neineo advised, seeing that she hesitated. - A thin shirt is on you, it will not save from the winds and rain. We have a long drive ahead of the bare tundra.

She had never seen the tundra before but had heard of it from Tormund and Ans. Her curiosity mixed with fear.  
When Brienne bestride a huge, strong, furry creature, which only slightly reminded a horse, she looked around. They situated now on the far side of the seashore lowlands. The river ran over the bare red stones, through the city, down to the sea. The dense forest in the borders of lowlands rose to a low ridge and then was lost behind the pass.  
The trees swayed and creaked from the wind.  
They rode along the river, then left it aside. The road was rocky, it endlessly climbed a mountain and ran down. The trees became less and less, and Brienne noticed islands of never melted snow beneath them.

It began to rain lightly when they reached the pass and drove through it, finding themselves on the other side of the rock belt. Here the smell of the sea coast finally disappeared. She saw the low shrubs, lichens and some grasses strewn between the stones, the plants with fluffy flowers as if someone had cut feathers from small birds and scattered them everywhere.

Neineo pulled up to her.

\- I hope the road doesn't tire you, - he said, handing her a flask of wine. - You know, I imagined you differently.

\- And how?

\- Rumor has it that you are uglier than the ugliest Ibbeni whore.

Brienne froze, the flask not reaching to her mouth.

\- These are not my words, - he shrugged. - And I do not find a grain of truth in them. You look like Tagaez Fen. It surprised me. I like it.

\- Ah, and that's why Tagaez Fen betrayed me.  
\- Did my sister promise you anything?

Brienne took a sip and grimaced. There was a lot of hop in his drink; it hit first in the chest, and then in the head. She coughed, feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks, and gave him the flask back. He began to drink without even wiping it after Brienne's lips.

\- Where are we going? Ib Nor?  
\- And you are better informed than many. But we don’t need to go that far, - he said with a grin. - We're going to the inner palace, in the heart of the Shadows, Lady Brienne.  
\- Do you know why I'm here?  
\- Of course.  
\- I want to meet with your Consul.  
\- He is dead. And you would have little use of him. He lost his mind and died, be the Shadow of the Shadow always on his side. You will meet the Queen.

Brienne looked at him in amazement - and then hastily turned her gaze to the tundra. In the distance, the plain lay like a shallow flat bowl. Surrounded by snow-capped mountains and cliffs, it was covered with stones, streams and these low motley grasses. Some small animals, like striped squirrels and small foxes, jumped out from under the horses' hooves. The birds here looked like chickens, they just sat on the ground and stared at the travelers, not trying to fly up. In the distance, at the foot of the blue mountains, waves of low fog floated.

\- Do you know who she is? - Brienne asked carefully, after a long silence.

He laughed amusedly.

\- I know. We all know.  
\- So?  
\- Cersei Lannister, - he dropped the name almost casually. - And you know that too. Otherwise, you would not have gone so far.  
\- Did she proclaim herself the queen?  
\- So the people of Ib decided. And all who served her before the death of the Consul of Shadows. If she had not got our support and affirmation, Cersei Lannister would hardly get what she has.  
\- And you? How did you get here?  
\- I was held as a hostage. Like your husband. But I proved my loyalty and for this, I was rewarded with a high position and great trust. The Queen knows how to thank her faithful adherents.

Well, without any doubt, Cersei always knew how to surround herself with useful people, Brienne thought. But before she could stop herself, she remarked dryly:

\- If you know our history well enough, you should be reminded of the fate of Euron Greyjoy and Ser Gregor Clegane.

\- And I ought to remind you of the dragon whore that you and others like you brought to King’s Landing with your own hands. You opened the way for the mad Targaryen girl, and she paid you back with death, flame, and blood. I have always been told that the lords of the West are shallow-brained. The knights you mentioned fell first, but this does not mean that the Queen’s fault is in their death. Your former husband understands this very well. I would like to hope that you will understand it too.

In part, there was Cersei’s guilt in everything that happened, she thought stubbornly.  
As in her destiny.  
As in the fate of her brother.

Former husband. 

These words, no matter how unpleasant, suddenly settled in her thoughts, and a nauseating, painful feeling of uncertainty was born. As if you are stepping on thin ice or marshy swamp. As if your head is spinning with poppy milk.

Former husband. She no longer had anything to lean on in this strange land, under this low gray sky.

As they approached the edge of the valley, she saw that the fog was rising higher. Behind it, a castle opened, surrounded by walls of white and green stone. It looked graceful, elegant, perfectly fitting into the landscape. From a distance, it was difficult to examine the details, but she had the impression that it was strikingly different from the rest of the Ibbeni architecture. The people of Ib preferred to hide the real beauty from prying eyes.  
Neineo caught her gaze.

\- It's beautiful, isn't it?  
\- Hasn't it been forbidden for foreigners to come here?  
\- Now a lot has changed. But something remains. The condition for approaching is absolute loyalty to Ib. This rule remains.

That can’t you say about me, she thought. A cold wind hit her face, and she felt grateful for the warm cloak. If it weren’t on her, she would surely have chilled to the bone. If they cared so much about her well-being, then she is important to them.

Yes, Brienne, that's right, she thought almost with peeve. Hostages are cherished.

She looked around. It’s hard to escape from here. The castle seemed to be deliberately located in the middle of an open area so that no one could approach or move away unnoticed.

Neineo signaled, and the two riders separated from them and spurred the horses. They rushed forward to convey the news.

\- We'll be there soon, - he said to Brienne. - Will you take some advice?

She silently stared forward.

\- Whatever you are ordered and whatever you are told, try to obey. You are a strong woman and, of course, you will want to resist at some point. And you will not have a single chance. Besides, you will not leave a chance to Jaime Lannister. Do you understand me?

Brienne reluctantly uttered:  
\- I understand.  
\- Good. You seem to be a clever person.

She did not like his friendly tone and even less she liked his words.

The castle became bigger, and she saw that it was decorated with carved skates and openwork hanging galleries. The central tower was a high dome, under which the railing of a wide-open terrace was visible.

In front of the gates of Shadow Castle, Neineo dismounted and offered her a hand. She pretended not to notice.

\- And one more thing, - he said with mock regret, - there is something that you and I must do. Please accept this as a reasonable necessity. Give me your hands.

She recoiled, and the horse behind her snorted in fright.

\- Lady Brienne, you are a sensible woman, - he spoke to her in the same way as they say to a frightened animal. - You should not make stupid scenes right now. There are more soldiers in the castle than in the citadel.

The Dothraki came closer. She was surrounded by men above her height or with her height and for the first time in these hours she was really nervous. Neineo took her wrists and put on them the heavy steel shackles. A short chain held them together. He stuck long bolts into the grooves, and she was forced to kneel. An approaching Ibbeni put her hands on a stone and hit the bolts with a hammer, something clicked, and the shackles were locked. Brienne felt herself trembling all over.

\- I was ordered to do this earlier, but I've decided that you did not deserve such treatment, - Neineo helped her up. He took off her cloak and threw it to the servant. - You were doing great, Lady Brienne. I'm even proud of you.

She was led through the open gate. The courtyard of the castle was strewn with some soft low grass, it was crossed by paved paths. People were crowding everywhere - servants and soldiers, and the air smelled cozy and peaceful, of honey and smoke.

Neineo went up with her to the high porch, the guards opened the doors for them, and they found themselves in a huge empty hall, pierced by oblique columns of light from lancet windows. The floors were covered with expensive carpets. Jasper sculptures depicted, apparently, local gods - a man with a fish head, a unicorn, a fox and many more figures. They went forward in two even rows. Brienne turned around. The Dothraki walked behind them, unceremoniously stepping on a beautiful patterned carpet with their dirty high boots.

In the next room, she was again forced to climb the stairs, and then again, and again. Finally, the doors decorated with precious stones opened, and they entered the hall, which overlooked the upper gallery. The columns supported a high arch of the ceiling, and the wind outside circled between them. But the huge fireplaces with a flame barely audible buzzing did not allow this room to cool down. A few steps from the fireplaces, she saw an elevation. On this platform was a throne, hitherto unprecedented. It was carved from a single piece of bright green malachite. The high back converged over the seated one, carved branches with birds, berries, and flowers diverged to the sides, like some kind of outlandish giant fan.

The woman sitting on the throne did not move as they approached. Brienne, who no longer had to be urged on, speeded her pace up.

\- Jaime!

He looked at her, not turning away, and when she called to him, Brienne saw that his face trembled, as if in pain. He has dressed in gold-embroidered doublet, leather breeches, and boots of the most elegant workmanship. His hair, in which gray mixed with darkened gold, was neat, like his beard. His face was pale, but he seemed neither sick, nor exhausted, nor depleted. She looked at his hands and flinched seeing the golden one.

\- Jaime, - she stopped in front of the throne, - I came for you. I came to you. 

She wanted to run up and hug him, and he just proceeded to look into her face with that strange expression, dreary and greedy, and helpless. And suddenly she realized - fear was splashing in him. Undisguised horror.

\- Please. Jaime! Say something! - She could not stand it and felt a tear roll down her cheek.

Whether it was tears of relief, anger, or all together - she could not say.

\- You shouldn't have come, - he muttered slowly as if struggling for words, - you shouldn't have come here, Brienne. You make a mistake.

\- Enough, - the cry came. - If she wants to comprehend which mistake she made, let her do it herself.

Brienne looked at the throne of malachite. Cersei’s gown was fiery red as if sewn from pieces of fire that darted in the fireplaces behind her. Her long silvered curls looked perfect. A thin circle of gold crown glittered on her forehead. Stones that she had never seen before — the dazzling beauty of jasper and malachite — were set into this crown, and they all looked at the world from the eyes of golden lions and their wide-open mouths.

\- You looked like you see a ghost, - Cersei grinned under her gaze. - Your former wife is not too happy to see me, Jaime. But why? We've even managed to become relatives, honey.

She tilted her head slightly.

\- So why did you come, Brienne of Tarth? I don’t think that you were eager to see me personally.

\- I wanted to see Jaime.  
\- What for?  
\- He is my husband. He is the father of our children.

Cersei smiled coldly:

\- Those seven that your ever-hungry womb has pushed out to keep him? And what is the result? Have you kept him eventually?

Brienne looked at her hands in shackles, and then at her husband. She noticed how his gaze slid down her wrists. He frowned and shook his head barely. Brienne decided to follow this silent advice.

She calmly stared forward.

\- You are in no position to keep silent, Brienne of Tarth. And why do you need the silence now? To annoy me? I’m not annoyed by your ugliness and stupidity anymore. These times are gone. Did you want to talk to him? Speak. We are all waiting. I personally am very impatient to hear your words.

Brienne looked at her finally and then turned her gaze away. She noticed that it was hard for Jaime to stand, he put his hands behind his back and transferred the weight to a healthy leg. He should have taken a cane, she thought involuntarily.

And she almost laughed at the inappropriateness of her care now, in this hall, among these people.

\- Nothing to say to your husband? Well, Jaime, your former wife is delectable, - Cersei pointed with a good-natured chuckle. - Though she has always had a small mind.

\- You should take a cane, - Brienne said quietly.

He jerked up his head and stared at her with speechless and woeful amazement.

\- It's hard for you to stand. I see that your leg is starting to bother you.

I’ve always saw it, she thought bitterly. The cane was the subject of their endless debate for several years in a row because Jaime believed that he would become “like an old man, and everyone would be happy to tear out bread, a coin, weapons or take away a young blooming wife”. These arguments infuriated her to the scarlet dust in her eyes. He saw that she was angry, and every time he laughed at his joke, as if for the first time. In the end, he surrendered, and Tyrion presented him a magnificent cane with the head of a lion on the hilt. But even after this, Jaime for a long time and diligently portrayed a brave young man.

Cersei moved her shoulder irritably.

\- Give him a cane, - she ordered to the servants.

\- I'm begging you. Let her go, - Jaime spoke, turning his face to his sister. - Let her go. After all, I’ve never pleaded for anything here. Why do you need her?

\- The question is, - Cersei observed stonily, not looking at him, - why does she need you. Why do you need him, Brienne? Do you think you can claim to own one of the Lannisters? And who do you think you are, silly girl?

\- Let her go, - Jaime repeated quietly, taking the cane from the servant. - Enough of this cruel play.

\- Well, whatever the spectacle, it kind of amuses me. And besides, she came to us on her own will. So, Brienne of Tarth. Once the ugliest girl of the Seven Kingdoms, and now the ugliest woman of all known continents, since you traveled so far and everyone here on Essos has plenty to admire your sour physiognomy. Are you satisfied? Have you made sure Jaime is not going to come back?

Brienne lowered her face. She felt as if a cold stone had been put into her heart, and now waves of icy sadness rolled from it.

\- You were glad to see that he is alive, - Cersei remarked with cruel pleasure. - I've noticed it on your face. Now you’ve made sure that he is alive and well, and feels great. Is it not enough for a stupid loving heart? Do not people like you learn to be happy with the smallest things? Have you not been taught not to claim to those who are no match for you? He came back to me. He will always come back to me, Brienne. We are Lannisters. You should have understood everything twenty years ago. But you didn’t. You wanted something that is not yours. You are not so simple, after all, you are the double-dealer, you are the filthy thief. Helping Sansa Stark, serving Dragon Whore, kissing Renly’s ass, you are always in the right places trying to snaffle your piece. You took advantage of the fact that Jaime was injured, almost dead, and he had nowhere to go. Dragged him into your bed, dragged him to your dirty miserable island, and began to bear children, one by one, like a sow. Each time you’ve spread your legs, he imagined a different woman, and you, poor thing, were glad of even that. Well, alas, sometimes bitter lessons should be learned in advance. It will hurt worse now. But I will sweeten your bitterness a bit. You knew that he has always felt sorry for you? It's true. And he is sorry to see your illusions disappear here and now. Isn’t it so, dear brother?

Brienne did not look at him. She felt tears hanging on her eyelashes, and least of all she wanted someone from the Lannisters to notice this.

\- Brienne, - Jaime said. - Tell me that everything is all right with the children. And please leave. Come home. Come back to them.

She raised her head sharply. Anger gripped her.

\- No, it is not all right! - She cried out. - Catelyn has been sobbing every minute since she heard about your death! The twins quarrel, Gerion sees nightmares! Sansa, our Sansa, fought with the brothers. Arthur believes that it is his fault. And Podrick. And Joanna. That is what happens! They believe that you died, and every day their grief is so heavy, so unbearable, it's like drowning in the sea, drowning every fucking day, day after day. That's how they feel, Jaime. They love you and their love is endless. You can not hide from it, this is so unfair, so faint-heartedly. And if you do not want to return to us, then say it in the face, and then do as you please, get back, to your sister, anywhere from our eyes. Say it to them! Say it to me. 

She fell silent, choking on tears. Jaime looked at her point-blank and she saw that she hurt him. His lips trembled - but he did not utter a word.

A coward, she thought bitterly. Traitor and coward. And yet his silence discouraged her.

\- Dumb cow, - Cersei started slowly, and a real fury was heard in her voice. - I was merciful to you, Gods see, I wanted to be merciful. I’ve decided to allow you to finish everything in a good way. But you didn’t come up with anything better than brandishing your ugly brood here. You are too dumb to understand what your words will lead to.

\- Jaime. You loved me, - Brienne blurted out suddenly, just not to hear that rage in her words. It scared her. - You loved me, you said it many times. Say it's over. Just tell me now. Why are you silent? 

She felt a pang of dander, and she felt that after so many years she still stays under the cold winter winds, desperate, devastated and beg him to answer. 

\- Why are you still afraid of her? When you left Winterfell, I saw the horror in your eyes. But now you should not be afraid, you can again become yourself. You are not like her. You lived the better life. You are better than you think about yourself. You have forgiven yourself. You fell in love with us all. You gave us everything you had. Do you remember oranges, Jaime?

He twitched as if from a blow. And she instantly understood. He remembers.

\- After all, you do remember everything. You taught Catelyn to fight with swords, you told Joanna tales, and that one for many months in a row, the same tale, because she loved it, you repeated and repeated it every night and one night you just fell asleep in a halfway and when you woke up she’s been telling this tale further to you…

\- Shut her up already! - Cersei ordered.

Neineo, who was closest to Brienne, turned to her and punched her in the stomach. He was taller than her, taller and stronger, and younger. And there was a lot of strength in him.  
She bent in half, the air disappeared from her lungs and gray fog ran before her eyes. Neineo, without changing his face at all, with the same kind smile on his lovely lips, kicked her between the legs. She fell to her knees, panting in tears.

\- Don't touch her! - Jaime rushed to her, but one of the guards put the tip of the sword to his neck and he froze. - Do not touch her, do you hear me? Leave her alone!

\- You see what you have done, - Cersei barely restrained herself, and suddenly Brienne saw the madness that appeared under the mask of a rational ruler, the madness as pure as the water in the tundra brooks. - You wanted that, Brienne? Let be so. You will receive everything in full. And, Jaime? She is not worthy of your compassion. Have you ever asked yourself how at all a woman alone can cross the Essos from south shore to the north, and stay alive and pristine? On the way here, she spread her legs in front of all the Khals of Essaria, dear brother. That’s how. This insatiable cunt will not calm down until it is turned inside out.

\- Shut up, - Jaime hissed. - Oh please, shut up.  
\- Do not beg. Command me, - she retorted with a vicious smile. - You know, I'm able to do so much for you.

\- Cersei, - he spoke quietly as if trying to tame his anger and hers. - I know you will listen to me. For the sake of all that is good in you and in ... and in me. Let her go, command them not to touch her. I will do everything you want. I swear to you. I swear, I will stay with you and I will not argue with you in anything. Just let her go. She will return to Tarth, she will no longer bother you. She will not be your rival. She will not tell anyone about Ibben. She will leave, I promise, and you will no longer hear about her. Let her go. Please. Let her go!

Cersei sat astonished, turning her head to him. She listened silently. This silence scared more than her insults or sneer.

\- You seem to be out of your mind, brother, - she started slowly and quietly when he was silent, and the guard lowered his sword. - Didn't you hear what I've just said? Your former wife is a whore. Miserable, ugly, worthless whore.

\- That's not true, - Jaime muttered in a sort of numbness. 

Brienne abruptly realized that he was not only afraid of his sister, but he did not understand her. What previously seemed to her some special connection between these two, and which caused her so much pain in her youth, disappeared now. She saw two people, just as strangers to each other and not understanding each other, and angry by this misunderstanding as if they spoke different languages.

\- It will be all the more fun when she pays for it, - Cersei stubbornly said. - And she will repent, and very soon. She will serve all my Dothraki since she loves these men so much. I will order my people to rip up her belly and fill the womb with hot stones since she loves to be parturient so much. She will be dying a very long time and before your eyes, Jaime, since you decided to open your mouth and dared to suggest such nonsense. You've always been the dumbest of the Lannisters.

Stunned, bewildered, both of them - both Jaime and Brienne - stared at the Queen of Shadows. She no longer smiled, and the poisonous honey disappeared from her words, now they oozed pure poison, a promise of death and pain. There was no point in not believing.

She's just bluffing, Brienne thought in a sort of broody horror. She would not have taken me here if it were true. They gave me a cloak, they accompanied me here as a valuable hostage... Could it just be for the torture and murder?

And yet, deep down in her mind, it seemed Cersei and Brienne both knew the truth. As soon as a few drops of anger fall on these scales, the scales will not swing in favor of common sense.

\- Ah, so you don't like it? - she beckoned to Jaime to her, and obediently he took several awkward steps. - You don't want it, do you? Then you will get rid of her. Give me her sword. 

Neineo offered her the Cursed Gift and, bowing, retreated.

\- Look, brother, what gift she brought to you. This is Valyrian steel. You have to thank her. Take it and end this ridiculous story. For your sake and mine. And for her sake. Will you do it fast? Mercifully? You know how to kill fast. You are a real knight, unlike this cow.

Jaime stood without moving.

\- No means no, - Cersei shrugged. - We can entertain ourselves. Our people will kill her slowly. They will like it when the dull cow's entrails fall outright at her feet. Maybe they will make her crawl from here to the very gates with her bowels outward...

\- Please, - Jaime spoke quietly, very carefully. – Don’t do that. I will become whatever you command me to be, but don’t touch her.

\- Why?  
\- We don't ... You don't want this. We need her as a hostage. She is valuable.  
\- Is it that important? Yes, I want her to be vanished right now. The world is not so simple, and you and I cannot spend the hostages. And yet, I want her to be crushed right now. She made you a prisoner, she crushed your life, our lives, she splinted us, she brought so much pain to us and so much damage… And I swear I'll do it. And you? What do you want, brother?

He kept silent.

\- Jaime. Do you wish to answer? Should I start an execution? Right here in the Shadow Hall? There will be a lot of blood and screams, but, I believe, this will serve as a good lesson for everyone.

\- I only want to be with you, - he said finally in a studied and monotonous manner. - Nothing else matters, only us. She is not important. She has no meaning. Just you and me. Let’s forget her. Send her to dungeon and let us stay together.

Brienne lowered her face to the floor. She was shaking from the keen pain that was still pounding in her stomach, and from something else that she could not name.  
She opened her mouth in a silent cry, her hair was disheveled for a long time and now fell, closing from prying eyes.

\- Exactly, - Cersei said with satisfaction. - There is only you and me. We can handle the rest because there are two of us. We are one. As long as I have you, and you have me, we will be able to solve all our problems. I will leave her alive; she will still be useful to us. See how merciful I am? She brought so much anguish and filth here, but I forgive her. Just because you ask for it. And because you finally understood everything. Bend over. I allow it.

Brienne jerked her head up. Jaime obediently bent and kissed his sister on the lips.

Neineo and another soldier led her somewhere down the steep and dark steps, and the luxurious interiors of the palace were replaced by damp walls and spider holes. She noticed several cells fenced off from a long corridor with steel bars. In some, people were lying or sitting; others were empty. She was led for a long time, as if they were trying to separate her from the rest of the captives. In the end, Neineo chose a cage and unlocked it with a key from a large bundle.

He led her inside.

\- I will leave the shackles on your wrists. This is for your own sake.

Brienne turned away from him. She tiredly pressed her forehead against the damp stones of dark wall.

\- Are you crying?

Her shoulders were shaking; her throat clenched in a spasm so sharp as if someone had pierced her with a knife from the inside. She could not answer him, even if she wanted to.

\- Really, not worth it. Did you get what you wanted? You wanted to see the Queen and your husband. You should be satisfied, not crushed. Lady Brienne? Turn to me; I have to show you your place.

When she did not obey, he took her by the shoulder and gently turned toward him.

\- I don't want to beat you anymore, - he said with disarming warmth. - If you don’t obey my orders, I will have to...

She jerked out of his fingers and tried to hit him with the elbow from the bottom up. It was an instinctive movement, stupid and reckless in her position. He easily threw her against the wall, stepped closer and slapped her in the face. Brienne raised her arms in defense, but no blows followed.

\- I said I don’t want to beat you. It does not cause me any pleasure.

\- True? - She gasped. - I must have been mistaken seeing the opposite.

\- Your bed is here, - he pointed to the floor, covered with horse blankets. - They will leave you some water here. They’ll give you food tomorrow if you don’t do anything stupid. Like you’ve tried now. 

He stepped back to the cell door.

Brienne sat on the floor and closed her eyes, leaning her back against the stones.  
Most of all, she wanted him to leave. To end it all. To this day gone forever.

\- What is it with the oranges? - Neineo abruptly asked.

Brienne opened her eyes in amazement and turned her face at him, blinking away the remnants of tears.

\- You mentioned oranges. There, in the Shadow Hall. I feel curious.

She silently stared up, and then he took a menacing step towards her. She, against her will, cringed and recoiled.  
How quickly you can turn a person into a slaughtered helpless animal, flashed in her head. Pain teaches quickly. Pain teaches well. Her abdomen was still throbbing, and she was ashamed to feel that blood began to ooze from abrasions right into her breeches. She only hoped that Neineo would not notice.

\- That was the last orange, - she muttered quickly. - Jaime ... left it to us. Me and ... Podrick, and Arthur, our sons. Someone sent the oranges to the castle, in gratitude for the protection. We’ve sent a small detachment of soldiers to help merchants deal with pirates in the Shipwreck Bay. And one of the merchants sent a basket of oranges...

Neineo slightly tilted his head to his shoulder. It seemed that he was interested in everything that she was telling. She realized that, from the moment he was allowed to beat her, he began to treat her even more kindly and amiable than before. It was as if they had given her to him, and now he was curious to play with this new thing, like a child playing with a new toy.

\- We handed them out to the servants and took some for ourselves, - she muttered softly, trying not to look at her executioner. - They were sweet, red inside. They are called blood oranges. They are very expensive. At that time, we could not buy such fruits overseas. It was ... probably it was a good present. And when the children ate their oranges, and I gave them a bit of mine, and they just proceeded to ask... The little ones cannot wait, they cannot... restrain themselves. And Jaime... he said that he just hates oranges, never wanted to… and gave us his.

She began to cry from this memory. Even perfectly realizing that her tears gave Neineo a special pleasure, she still could not stop.

\- And several years passed, and we bought oranges without stint, and they brought them to us in large ships, as a fee or a gift. And he... it turned out that Jaime likes oranges very much.

She covered her face with her hands. The shackles quietly tinkled while she was shaking, as if in a fever, from these unstoppable tears.

\- You need to rest, Lady Brienne. We exhausted you completely. I'm sorry it all happened.

\- Could you ... could you please leave me? - She muttered uncertainly.

To her surprise, he was not offended, and bowing, he left. The cage was locked, the torch on the wall opposite it soon began to go out, and it became dark. Brienne lay curled up. The stones were cold. She heard someone moan softly at the far end of the corridor, and with that moan, there was so much pain that she shivered again.

Stubborn woman. Stupid woman.

You made a big mistake, she thought.  
Maybe the biggest in my life.


	8. The traitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love without honor, without self-denial, the love all Lannisters deliver is a poison. Look at my sister when she comes here and you will see my reflection in her. We are twins after all. We are damn twins, and this cannot be changed by the very best of my intentions.

Brienne stood knee-deep in an icy creek, and her teeth beat out drumming. She wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders and hips covered with goosebumps. Some of the guards laughed, seeing how she was trembling and yelping softly, slipping on the rocks.

They put a loop on her neck and kept her on a leash using a long rope. Lady Stark used to treat Jaime Lannister in the same manner.

Everything in the world is back.  
And sooner or later you have to pay for everything.

\- Try not to fall, - Neineo advised her without a hint of a smile. - This little river only seems harmless. The stream will sweep you down very quickly, and there are boulders, and we are unlikely to save you. We will only strangle you, trying to pull back.

She looked back to the shore. Their figures shrouded in the mist were barely visible. The rope they held stretched and shuddered. I could cut it with a stone, and maybe it would break, Brienne thought detachedly. In the fog, she could get over to the other side, but she was completely naked, and there was almost an autumn cold. And when the fog rises, they will see a fugitive in the middle of the tundra as clearly as a beetle in the middle of a large plate. How many I can kill if I don’t run away, but dive in the fog and try to possess at least one arrakh? I will win myself some time to run to the mountains.

No matter how much you’ll kill, she will make Jaime pay.

\- Lady Brienne! You promised me to wash off the blood, - Neineo appeared from a foggy canopy, he went down to the rocky shore, wrapping a rope around his palm. - So you will stand still? Move, don't freeze!

She hastily leaned over and scooped up the water. The water was so icy that every time she touched it, she caught her breath. She washed her hips from the inside, trying to wipe off the red drips.

Neineo did not like to see traces of his cruelty on her. If he beat her, he always tried to do it without any marks. He wore leather bands on his knuckles for that, he told her that he had learned this trick from Dothraki men, or he beat her with his elbow on her stomach or kicked her ankles, and then every time he sympathetically wondered how she felt. It seemed to her that he was deliberately assigned to her to turn the already unenviable existence of a hostage into a nightmare in reality.

Cersei was a cruel to reckless woman, but also inventive and intelligent. Maybe she liked to realize that Prince Alexi, as she called her commander, knocks out the obstinate temper from Brienne and turns the captive into a frightened and confused beast.

She turned around and saw that he was looking at her point-blank. If he wants to admire the body of a forty-year-old matron, then as he pleases, with sullen distaste, she thought. And yet she felt dreary embarrassment. For all these years, the only man who saw her naked was her husband, and she... yes, both of them, of course, would have preferred it to remain so.

Prisoners are meant to be stripped, she thought, scooping up water and dropping her face in her icy palms. Almost always stripping prisoners serves to them losing heart and preventing resist. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to unravel the strands. They didn’t do anything extraordinary with her, nothing that she hadn’t seen many times in her youth, traveling through the war and calamity: she was beaten, stripped and held in chains. But she was not raped or hanged, nor was she starved or tortured.

Maybe all this was prepared for later when it becomes clear that Jaime is pretending when Cersei goes mad with resentment. Jaime was not a good liar, after all.

Mother, give me defense, she thought. Father, give me strength. Maiden, give me hope. Warrior, give me courage...

\- Enough, - Neineo’s voice cut through the fog like a knife. - Come here. You will freeze to death if you stay in the water a little more.

She obeyed. He handed her a thick cloak padded with fur, and she gratefully wrapped herself in it. Neineo turned her around and began to tie a long silk bandage over her eyes. An absurd precaution, given that in the fog she could hardly have seen much, both around in tundra and the courtyard of the castle.

\- As if death should scare me, - she said, rather to herself.  
\- You? Not. But I will fall into great disfavor, - he answered with a laugh.  
\- Why should I care about your troubles, Prince Alexi?

His fingers touched her wet hair, and he ran them down very carefully.

\- I did not understand your husband, to this day, - he said calmly. - His sister is beautiful, she is adorable, gorgeous, graceful. I did not understand how it was possible to replace her beauty with this...

She flinched.

\- And now I suddenly understood, - his voice became low, insinuating.

\- Let go.

\- Or that?

\- Let go! - Brienne almost screamed, and heard that the guards were approaching, she could hear their hasty steps and clang of weapons.

He pushed her away and said something to them. They cackled.  
\- You need to get dressed, - he said mockingly. - I brought a clean shirt and breeches. The Queen of Shadows thinks that in a gown you will look even more terrible, she allows you to wear only a man's dress. I did not dare to object.

Brienne saw a gray haze before her. She raised her hand to remove the bandage, but he hit her on the arm:

\- No. Dress like that.

Brienne extended her hand into the void, hoping that he would give her clothes, and her fingers indeed touched the rough linen fabric. But, as soon as she tried to take it, he pulled the shirt from her hands and said with a laugh:

\- Oh no. It seems I gave it to someone from the guard. Take a left.

In irritation, she moved to the left, blindly stretching her arms. They began to throw her clothes and push them to each other, the whole scene amused them. While Brienne stumbled from one cry to another, blinded, in unable rage, they laughed like little children.

\- Give back! - she cried and hit someone backhand, and immediately received such a slap to the face, that her mouth was filled with blood.

Neineo angrily spoke something on Dothraki behind her back. He thrust the clothes into her hands.

\- Enough with your walks today.

When she got dressed, they again fixed the shackles, and led her somewhere, in the dark, exchanging lazy jokes and occasionally pushing her or pulling, directing her along the road.

When she was brought back to the dungeon, she raised her hands to her face, and, without waiting for permission, pulled the blindfold from her eyes. She turned to Neineo, blazing with anger:

\- Do you like so much to humiliate those who are defenseless? Have you been taught this? Or have you felt a taste for cruelty by yourself?

\- Don't get angry, - he smiled. - You washed the dust and blood off your body, and breathed the freshest air instead of this dungeon, and played a little with us... You shouldn’t be so angry with the one who arranged it all for you, Lady Brienne. And if I was taught something, it is to expect gratitude for good deeds.

She gave him a cold stare.

\- Are you waiting for gratitude? Or imagined that I was angry with you? Neither one nor the other you will get. I despise you.

He squinted in rage and raised his hand, but she was just waiting for it.

She managed to push his elbow upwards, his force dragged him, and he lost his balance, just for a moment, but that was enough for her. She kicked her knee into his thigh, and he fell on his side, and she rushed out of the cell, being excellently aware of the futility of such a plan, and yet blinded by rage and hatred. He caught her leg, she fell right into the corridor. From somewhere above, she heard footsteps approaching. Neineo pulled her into a cage, turned her over and hit her in the face, without aiming. Blood spurted from a split wound on her cheekbone. He leaned all over her chest, kicking her ribs, and bent down so low to her face that his breath burned her lips.

\- Hush. Hush. Hush. Shhh...

He squeezed her mouth with his palm and pressed harder, and Brienne thought, almost blithely: he would break my jaw.

\- Quiet. Just lay quietly.

Her legs were twitching, trying to find support. She tried to reach his back or sides with her knee. He pressed his face to her blood-bathed cheek, without removing his palm from her mouth. He put his other hand on her neck and squeezed it so that she gasped - and could no longer breathe.

\- Lady Brienne, I beg you. Do not ask questions, do not repeat my words. You can scream if you want.

He warily pulled his fingers from her lips.

\- Just finish it, - she croaked in some perplexed despair.

Please let it be ended quickly.  
Please let him be quick.  
Please let me not feel anything.

He bent over even lower, pressing his lips to her ear.

\- Black Wing. You were with Khal Hosho. You've heard about him. He begged the Khal to help him several times. Hosho refused, he is too wary to go back here, but he sure has told you. Has he? Don’t speak. Nod.

She twitched all over - in astonishment and trying to find the remnants of the force in herself, as the remnants of air in her throat.

\- Quiet, - he hissed with angry impatience. - I told you to lay quietly! Nod if I'm right. We have to speak quickly, and then they will come here. They will take me for a rapist. And you have to play along. You played well until this minute. Come on!

He stared into her eyes. His pupils seemed to her fathomless, flameless and cold. Brienne, sensing that she was almost losing consciousness, blinked and tried to shake her head. She was not sure that she nodded or just jerked inordinately.

\- Good. Black-winged sends the news to all lands. Very soon I will give you to him. I'll get you home, all right? You and your husband. But you must promise to repay me and my family. Will you promise? Give me a sign that you understood. You promise?

He shook her so that her head hit the stone floor.

From her utter surprise, from his confession and from the fact that Neineo's hands were still squeezing her throat, she opened her mouth, but instead of words, between her lips, only saliva and blood were running.

\- I have to stay by your side. Otherwise, you will not survive. And... I, I... forgive me, Lady Brienne, - he said with a mournful and strange smile. He tore one hand from her neck and hit her in the face. But the blow slipped and the exploding bang landed on her temple. The world around them rang and lost all sounds. She watched up and saw his lips moved, but did not hear anything.  
Finally, his words burst through the bits of fog.

\- ... will you listen to me? I give the Tagaez Fen vow, I promise nothing will happen to you. And I am sorry in advance for everything I did and will do...

\- What's going on here?

Brienne turned her head as much as she could and saw the hem of a golden beaded gown. 

Then a Dothraki’s shout rang out, someone growled, and Jaime dashed to Neineo, hit him in the face, and something cracked with a sickening sound, and blood poured on her, hot and thick. The fingers on her throat finally unfolded. 

The guards rushed to disjoint a fight, but before that Jaime managed to treat Neineo several times with hard blows of his golden hand. In the end, he was dragged away, and Prince Alexi stood up, breathing heavily, pinching his nose and cheekbone, blood flooded his doublet and quickly dripped onto his boots. Jaime twitched all over, and the guards released him in obvious fear.

\- What an ugly scene, - Cersei shook her head reproachfully. - Neineo, my boy, what had happened?

\- She tried to escape, - he muttered, taking a snow-white kerchief from Cersei. - I apologize for what you saw. She hit me and tried to run out.

\- She’s dumber than we all believe. And you have not found anything better than climbing on this monster? - with a gentle chuckle, Cersei noticed.

Brienne, unable to rise, rolled onto her side. She closed her eyes and shook her head, to calm down this nasty ringing in the ears. Her ribs were in a fire, and her hands, embraced by heavy shackles, trembled and refused to obey her. She was seeking some anchorage, fruitlessly scraping the stones, but it was as if to grasp a mist and the world silently slipped away, no matter how hard she tried.

\- I beg your forgiveness, my Queen.  
\- Get out, - Jaime snapped quietly. - Get the fuck out of here.

Neineo awkwardly bowed and walked to the exit.

\- My dear brother, you need no worry. She would have been glad of such attention, - Cersei tucked a strand of Brienne’s hair with the tip of her dainty velvet shoe. - Look how charmingly she disbanded her silly thin hair. Maybe she was not against it. Maybe she was happy. Oh you were, weren’t you, honey?

Brienne did not answer, and then Cersei with a force stepped on her shaking palm spread across the floor.

\- Should I break her fingers, Jaime?  
\- No. Please. Don’t!  
\- Great. And I do not like to step in the mud. You don’t want your fingers to be broken, Brienne? So answer my question. I want you to tell us the truth. Were you glad of such attention?

\- I was, - she whispered with trembling lips. 

\- Tell us more, you filthy sow. You liked it when he was on top of you?

Brienne shut her eyes. 

\- Yes.

The shoe disappeared and Brienne curled up, trying to hide her blood-stained face from everyone.

\- See, Jaime? What have I told you all that time? A whore. 

The scarf was wet and cold. She pressed it to her face, and then wiped the blood from her neck and collarbones. Neineo squatted across from her and watched silently. He tried to help, but she pushed his hands away, and he did not insist. His nose was broken, but a healer or maybe the commander himself had set the bone. Torn swollen traces of golden fingers stretched across his cheekbone.

\- She set it all up, didn't she? - Brienne asked quietly.

He looked away:

\- I was ordered to take you. To persuade or to seduce, and if it does not work, then to force.  
\- You knew they would be here.  
\- I knew. She knew. It had been arranged. 

She threw the soiled scarf onto the floor.

\- You tricked me, tricked me into this trap. You almost strangled me, then nearly broke my temple. And not speaking of me, what if Jaime weren’t stopped?

\- Maybe she wanted to test him. Or degrade him completely. He had the patience not to provoke her or her guards until now. If you are waiting for my repentance... I have already told you, Lady Brienne, I serve the Queen of Shadows and will continue to serve with all my zeal.

\- You serve Saath.

His lips twitched in a gloomy grin:

\- To serve my hometown, you need to be careful and cunning and be able to please everyone.  
\- You're disgusting.  
\- And you are a damn stubborn prude.  
\- In your opinion, I should give up?  
\- I didn't mean to hurt you. I’d like you to willingly open your arms for me.

She laughed and then choked on her bitter laugh. Her throat still ached after his fingers.

\- It’s hard to open a hug having the shackles on your wrists.

He looked at her tattered fingers and a shirt that was torn on her shoulder.

\- After all, I apologized. You need to be strong, you need to be able to restrain yourself, keep all your feelings to yourself to survive here. Your husband knows that. You should learn from him.  
\- And you also can teach this art perfectly well. When did you hear about Black Wing?  
\- Being here. Not being a hostage, it happened when I’ve started to serve. We executed, and before that, we tortured several stubborn Ibbeni. There, at the far end of the prison, some of them will soon have the same sad outcomes...  
\- And then you decided to play your own game?  
He shook his head.

\- No. I decided this when, instead of the promised freedom, she sent troops to my city. This is what we got in exchange for your precious fair-haired head. My sister is under arrest, she is locked in a room, several commanders were killed. The people of Saath, the Queen told me, welcomed the Ibbeni and Dothraki soldiers with great joy. Finally, she said, all of Sarnor became one and will now restore its glory. Do you need my honesty? Please, take it and think whatever you want about me. I liked you from the moment I saw you and spoke to you, but I swear, I would beat you to death and rape you as much time as needed, if she’d ordered me. But now I want to use you the other way. I want you to stay alive and crush her down after I’ll set you free. 

Brienne shook her head. Cersei made a mistake conquering Saath, but, they say, madness destroys even the cleverest minds gradually, step by step. Until it leads to the abyss. Jaime told her about the Mad King, although not very much. He did not like to remember those times. 

She had the impression that madness did not take possession of the King in an instant, but grew in him, like a disgusting plant, feeding on cruelty and tortures and strange ideas ...

The strangest of her ideas, Brienne thought sadly, was to look for a lover in her brother. Jaime would love her anyway, he would give anything including his life for her, all the Lannisters siblings loved each other no matter what. Loved and hated, finally, yes, but their love was in the core of these lost and desperate souls, not the rancor, nor the insanity. 

Why should they need to go further, into the darkest places? This woman was given both cleverness and unspeakable beauty, but what did she do with them?

\- I once knew her husband, - Neineo said as if guessing Brienne’s thoughts. - Not the Consul of the Shadows, no. That, the former. His name was Ereen Vgaar, he was from the city of Lorath. A handsome, blooming young man. The eyes are the color of a peacock feather, blue, bright, shining. Rich, always cheerful, always kind. He wanted to propose to my sister, but we did not allow it. Tagaez people do not like strangers, but also the matter concerned a very young princess. Moreover, even then he had a mistress in Volantis, and his reputation was very doubtful. But Jahata liked him. She liked traveling with him, learning new things. She liked helping him in a trade. His workshops wove velvet, and with Jahata he bought cotton on some estates in the south. She helped him to speak other languages and to count gold. She is clever. And he was a very smart man. They wanted to plant cotton fields on the border with the Grass Sea and even came up with a plan on how to pay off from the Khals. Saath is a gloomy place, a boring place if you are young and want to live and breathe and move. 

\- It seems you liked him too?

\- I admired him. One of the few strangers who I liked. He had many virtues, but one big defect. He liked to endow his mercy to the most miserable and helpless whores. And if this flaw was a small whim, you could close your eyes to that. But he gained the most brilliant fame among all the brothels from Braavos to Meerin. In the end, when we found out about his whore from Volantis, it was too late to dissuade him. Generosity ruined him. Our Queen knows how to be charming and turn men into brainless donkeys.

\- She served in the brothel of Volantis?

\- For a pretty long time. She rose from the bottom, from where, it seems, there is no way other than to death. He was her best opportunity. Handsome, young, kind, rich and lonely. Oh, and with a weakness for the miserable and degraded ladies. In Volantis, she entangled him with her enchantment. Soon she became a concubine, a mistress, and commanded almost all the brothel, at the same time cracking down on those who had previously dared to offend her. With his money and mercies, she began to live there like a great harlot, like the Black Swan Slut from the legends. I've heard that she even became pregnant. But they say that they murdered the children, or that they died at birth ... maybe just rumors. I think if it’s true, the mistress of the brothel would end them, not wanting to give him the harlot and to miss the golden stream that poured from Lorath. In any case, I generally doubt that she could become pregnant and bear a child. She was beaten and raped many times, and was nearly killed before Ereen appeared. When he took her to Lorath, and then he soon died, Jahata told me: now big troubles await us. She still has not forgiven her. I think she will never forgive.

\- And yet, Saath did not resist.  
\- You've been in my city. Tell me, how long would we hold out against her hordes and ships?  
\- I saw hordes of the dead coming upon us. And no one near me thought to surrender. Sometimes you need to resist, whatever the cost is.

\- You don’t know Essos, - he cautiously ran a finger under her ear, erasing the remnants of blood. - You don't know us well. Is it true that your husband knighted you?

She smiled ruefully:

\- At that time we were not married.

\- Looks like he always loved you. You are a real knight, Lady Brienne. But knights have no place in our lands. In these places, only the cruel, smart and sharp survive. Take my advice, try to become like that. Think like that. Act like that. And you will win. It is late now. I have to go. It was ordered to hit you several times, but...

\- I beg you. Do not, - she tried to crouch into the wall, in involuntary terror.

\- I can't disobey her. And I try to do as little harm as possible.  
\- Please! You are not like that. You are from the proud, free people, you are free to decide yourself.

He doubtingly lowered his hand, on which he had already begun to wind a leather band.

When he locked the cell door, she called to him:

\- Prince Alexi. Those children you mentioned. Why did you say "children"?

He hesitated, gathering his thoughts.

\- They say they were twins. 

She could not fall asleep for a long time after Neineo left. Her body was aching, her head was cracking as if a flock of crabs had been scratching under the skull. It was difficult for her to breathe, and in the end, when she tried to roll over, again and again, she felt warm drops dripping down her fingers. The shackles had long worn her skin to blisters, and now these wounds opened, and the itching pain joined all the other pains of that night.

When Brienne nevertheless fell asleep, in a dream she saw her father.

He stood at the edge of the surf and looked at her, turning around. His gray hair was tousled by a warm wind. A smile, as always, was hiding at the bottom of blue eyes. She saw that Lord Selwyn was standing barefoot and holding the hand of a boy with fair hair, a boy no older than six years old. The boy turned and waved to her, and she thought: this is Galladon. 

The older brother.

She wanted to come to them, and she began to go down the gently sloping dune and, lowering her eyes, she saw that her feet were small and that she was wearing the dress that she wore as a little girl - light blue, embroidered by the suns on the hem. She grew out of this dress very quickly, but now it has again fitted.

I became small again, she thought without surprise. 

And she ran to them, to her father and brother, and her legs carried her so easily, so quickly.

They smiled, watching her run toward them.

“Come with us,” father said when her bare heels touched the waves. “Come with us, Brienne. You won’t be hurt anymore. Come here, Brienne, my girl!"

He grabbed her in his arms and swirled, and it seemed to her that the world had become so vast, so beautiful when she watched down from father's height. And she heard his husky and gentle laugh. Sun glare on the sea blinded her eyes, and she buried her face in her father's beard and closed her eyes.

She woke up in tears.

They brought her neither food nor water, but keeping track of time in a dark basement without windows was not easy, and Brienne decided that she simply woke up earlier than usual. There was silence all around; she did not hear either footsteps or conversations, only the crackle of flame in torches on the wall. When the torch in front of her cell burned out, she realized that a whole day was over. She curled up, covered herself with blankets and, trembling, blew on her fingers. The shackles began to seem very heavy to her. She looked through the eyelashes into the gap between the blankets and saw how the world becomes maroon and then dull gray, and finally, when the last spark in the torch went out, the world turned black.

Father, she thought longingly. Father, where are you now?

There, at the edge of the warm summer sea, under the gentle wind. She wanted to see him there again, hug him and stay with him.

When she woke up, there was a bucket of water in the cage, but no food was brought to her. She drank water and lay down again.

In this state of oblivion, she lay, perhaps for several days. In the end, the guard came and quickly threw her a few crusts of burnt bread. 

She thought that she haven’t eaten anything tastier.

Neineo Alexi did not appear, and this began to disturb her. The deathly silence in the corridors of the prison disturbed her also.  
Where there were sighs, words of a foreign language, screams, and groans, silence and darkness hung over.

Brienne stood on tiptoe and twisted, clutching the bars to see as far as possible. But she saw only the long galleries, lost in the darkness, and empty cages on both sides of them.

Judging by the torches that were changed on the walls, she sat alone at least ten days. She ate only leftovers, crusts and vegetable peels. The wounds on her wrists became deeper, constantly rubbed by the edges of the iron bracelets. Her headache, however, gradually receded, as did the sore throat.

Where are you, the damned prince of Saath. He could be anywhere ... He must be carried out the orders of his Queen, crushed the rebels or executed vassals for non-payment, or went to save his sister... He was not a reliable ally and was not an ally at all. Betraying twice, why he could not betray a third time.

Thinking this way, and in the gloomiest mood, Brienne fell asleep. She woke up from the noises around, from the flickering torch lights, she heard the steps and voices of many people. 

Something heavy but strangely limber, fell on her bed, something like a big cobblestone, and she sat up, straightening, stupidly flapping her eyelashes. 

The head with cut out eyes lied on her blanket; the blood dried on the cheeks under the dips of empty eye sockets. She saw black hair in the thick braids, entwined with bright ribbons, and screamed aloud.

“That's what we do with the traitors,” Cersei squeamishly threw Neyneo's head to the side, using the tip of her shoe. 

Brienne suddenly and for the first time noticed how much she was limping. She dangled from side to side, looking exactly as Jaime when he was angry or in a hurry.

“In case he has time to promise you something, look into that face and remember what death looks like,” she advised the stunned Brienne.

Brienne began to crawl into the corner, obeying inexplicable fear and in a sort of deathly daze.

\- Ah, of course. He promised you freedom or life, right? Or something even more fabulous like Black Wing returning?  
\- No, - Brienne whispered hoarsely.

She looked over Cersei's shoulder and saw Jaime's tense face.

\- No, I swear, I... I know nothing of this... of him…

\- He has always fancied you, you dumb whore, - Cersei said with dislike. - It was only thanks to him that you did not yet recognize the true pleasures of my basements. It is not to lie on the floor waiting for a beautiful and quick execution, Brienne. A quick death will have to be earned. And I promise that soon you will know everything. There is no one else to protect you.

She involuntarily looked at Jaime again. Cersei also noticed this. And flared up. 

Stepping back to the door, she beckoned someone. A sturdy man came in, with a grayish-yellow smooth skin, with dark hair gathered in a small braid on his shaved nape.

\- You. Start now.  
\- Cersei, no, - Jaime said. He grabbed her by the shoulder, but she threw off his hand.  
\- Do not interfere. You will make it worse. 

The man approached Brienne without hesitation, grabbed her by the shirt and easily lifted her off the floor. The fabric cracked, and Brienne almost fell out of her clothes, her bound hands involuntarily slipped up, she became entangled in the fabric - and he kicked her in the exposed stomach. Pain pierced her from the groin to the throat, the executioner let go, and she screamed and rolled on the floor, covering herself as the warriors cover themselves in fist fighting. The executioner took aim and kicked her in the back, he was good at his job, and, it seems, he knew such spots on the body, the blow on which brought as much suffering as possible. 

The pain blossomed in her with a white, blinding flower and the lights of this flame licked her spine and her guts. Brienne squealed helplessly and then howled, and then she pressed her hand to her mouth because her howl frightened her, it was otherworldly and strange. Sobbing, she tried to crawl out from the blows. The executioner put his foot on her side, holding her in the same position, he examined with faint interest her twitching body, her shirt pulled up and muscle contractions. 

\- Cersei! Enough! Please stop. Stop this! - Jaime grabbed his sister by the shoulders, looking imploringly into her face. - Have you forgotten? Have you forgotten what I said? She is not there! It never happened. There are only us. And we are together. All right? Are you listening? No! No! Please, sister. Look at me. Look at me only. Do not look at her...

He gently grabbed her face, pale and twisted with rage, preventing her from looking away.

\- I love you. You are above all. Do you hear me? Nothing matters, nothing is worth your tears, no one can offend you while I'm around ...

His words, though not addressed to her, acted on strangely soothingly. Brienne knelt with difficulty and wiped her wet face with a sleeve. She still did not have enough air, and between her legs, it became damp and warm, she felt that blood was oozing from her woman parts. Blood and something else. She must have peed herself from this harsh blow.

\- Twins lovers, - she muttered.

Slowly, very slowly, Cersei turned to her. Jaime still held her shoulders in some kind of despair, but he also stared at his wife with startled amazement.

\- Theos. Theya. Twins. Did you ... did you know they were alive?

Cersei's lips twitched, but she restrained herself and forced an icy smile. However, this smile melted as fast as snow under the sun.

\- You don't know anything, dumb creature.  
\- But you do know. - Brienne said affirmatively.

There was a pause.

\- What's going on here? - Jaime asked quietly.  
\- She gave birth to twins, - Brienne said. - In Volantis.  
\- Shut up.  
\- They took them from you, you’ve been told they died. Cersei! You have suffered enough; nobody deserves such pain as to lose their children.

\- What are you talking about? - Jaime finally released his sister.

She took a couple of steps to Brienne and then stopped and shrugged nonchalantly:

\- I’ve never lost these two. They promised me to get rid of them.

Brienne stared up dumbfounded. She was still on her knees and could not force herself to rise to her feet. She was afraid she would fall, trying.

\- They promised that there would be no trouble with them, and I was sure both were dead. Turned out, they were alive. What do you want to hear? I’ve seen them couple times in my life.

\- But they are your children!

\- It does not matter. I had three of my children, and I closed the eyes of all of them, and these ugly offspring should not have opened them at all.

\- Twins with blue eyes. Blue like his, - Brienne said quietly. - Their hair is like yours. Golden. They are very beautiful. They did not deserve such a fate. They are just children...  
\- You don't understand anything, do you?  
\- Yes, I don’t understand. You found out that they are alive and serving in a brothel, and you did nothing.  
\- I’ve been deceived, and probably they expected to somehow use the children against me, but I was kind to the children when everything was opened. I let them live, I did not kick them into the streets, where they would not last one day. And did not sell them into slavery. Although some would give me a good price for them. And I've made sure that they were given a lot of orders. They brought me gold and were very good at what they did. I know how to turn my riches into even more gold.  
\- These are your children! - Brienne almost shouted.  
\- These are his children, - Cersei snapped disgustedly. - My children were born from a man whom I loved, and who loved me. All three are now dead.

Brienne looked at Jaime. He shifted his confused glance from one to the other.  
Horror and misunderstanding interfered on his face.

\- You can not do it this way! You can't ... Theya was starving, and Theos drank poppy milk, they were beaten, terrified, them...

\- And then the boy was murdered, and all because of you, - Cersei calmly finished for her. – Did you try to judge me using the twins? Let me remind you. His blood is on your hands, you fool.  
\- No, no…  
\- You used them as a shield, like hostages, these poor things. And you know what? I think it’s time for little Theya to go to the country of milk and honey. There, they will finally feed her, and your restless heart will cease to suffer so much. Am I right?

Brienne felt an icy chill creeping over. She looked into Cersei's adorable green eyes, now so close — and she saw an abyss and emptiness.

\- Don't, - she said softly. - I beg you. This is your daughter. She knows nothing. She's not to blame for anything.  
\- You are right, honey. Her only misfortune was that on her way she came across such a selfish creature like you, Brienne of Tarth. The gold that you gave her is stained with blood. You can't wash this off yourself. Never.  
\- Do not touch her! - Brienne raised her voice again to overcome her horror. - Do not touch her, I plead you!  
Cersei laughed shortly.  
\- You know, it’s even good that you suddenly remembered them.  
\- Have you sent your children to the brothel? - Jaime inquired, bewildered.  
\- They were made to serve there. I’ve never even known them. They are not my children! They were born from him, and I did not need them... I did not want them. They hindered me!

The whimsical notes of a little girl erupted in her voice.

\- Hinder what?  
\- I'm not one of those cows who are willing to give their whole lives for the sake of someone’s seed. I'm not like her, - Cersei pointed to Brienne. - These were his children. I can’t be tricked by a silly baby face.

And suddenly her face wrinkled and everything seemed in it to flow, and Brienne saw with helpless horror that the Queen of Shadows was crying.

\- You loved them. You saw their little faces ... and you loved them, - she said. - You know you loved. Even if for a moment.

Cersei sobbed and pressed a hand to her nose, taking a few breaths. 

A moment of weakness passed. She wiped her face, and Jaime, who had taken a step toward her, stepped back, seeing her face petrified.

\- Enough. You got into something you never understand, Brienne. Do you want to play this game? Find out other people's secrets, play with them, like a Master of Whispers? You are too naive and stupid for that. People smarter than you had played. And they lost. Do you want me to keep Theya alive?

\- Yes! Please. Don’t take her life.

\- Did you like her? Or are you one of those stupid slobbery lisping matrons who are touched by all the children around?

Brienne did not know which of this was true. She has never been fond of children, or, in any case, she thought so of herself... It seems that everything in her life indicated the opposite. 

\- Then everything is in your hands. More precisely, in this one.

Cersei gently grabbed her brother's hand and pulled it up it, admiring the golden palm.

\- You will pray me after every blow, and if I decide that you speak convincingly, so be it, I will leave the girl alive. If I don’t like it, I will order to kill her. I promise you that my people will do everything quickly.

\- What are you ... - Jaime began, but Cersei tenderly let him go and went to the door, making a sign to the others, the executioner and the guards, to move into the corridor.

\- Hit her. And make her beg after every blow. Neineo is dead, and he has been the best in this. And now there is no one else to take care of her, to give her helpful lessons.

Jaime looked down at Brienne. He did not move.

\- I don't... I can't.

\- Cersei! Don't do this. - Brienne felt anger tears flow down her cheeks. - Don't force him. You do love him. He is your brother!

\- Precisely because I love him. What things are we doing for love, Jaime?

He was silent, and Brienne saw a muscle twitch on his cheek. She felt compassion for him, and, not wanting to aggravate his misery, she muttered:

\- Jaime. Do not be afraid… Help me. Help the girl. Do as she orders.

\- Do it, dear brother. Once you crippled the boy with one push in the chest, and now you will save the girl with a few slaps, - Cersei laughed. - You see, fate gives you a chance to become a noble knight? As you once dreamed. And what will your slap-blows do with this cow? Unless they will teach her a bit. Let's hope she never wants to get into other's deeds again. Jaime! You will not do this, I will entrust the executioner with this job. Do you want it?

Silence.

\- Hit her! - Cersei shouted in a half-mad mix of laughter and rage. - Hit her!

\- Please, Jaime… - Brienne lowered her eyes, and noticed at the last moment, as he hesitantly put up his golden hand. She trembled helplessly and hated herself for the faint-hearted dread.

\- Come on! - Cersei impatiently shouted. - How long will we wait? It’s cold here. I want warm wine, I want to relax and take a hot bath.

Brienne slightly raised her bounded hands, her body was trained to defend itself and she still could not cope with these worn-in habits.  
Nothing has happened.

Jaime turned away and went to the exit. He limped and stooped like a very old man.

\- Well, let’s stop this nonsense for today. Let her death serve both of you, - Cersei said with hatred. - You, stupid sow, and you, pathetic coward.

\- Do not! - Brienne stood up and rushed after, but the guard had already begun to lock the door of her cell. They went along the corridor, and the light of the torches swayed on the embroidered fabrics of their beautiful clothes. - Cersei, please! Do not! Do not kill her! Have your mercy on her! Please, come back! Let the executioner do whatever you command! I won’t argue with you anymore! Cersei, Your Grace, I plead you! Do not!

She burst into tears. Slowly dropping to the floor, clutching the bars of the cage, she repeated and repeated, like a spell: no, no, no, please, don't.

A few days passed in pure agony, her back ached endlessly, not giving her any respite. It was painful for her to get up, and she preferred to spend these hours slipping between reality and dream, an endless dream in which she met everyone who had been dear to her. She saw the faces of her children and the faces of the twins from Volantis. Sansa Stark, Podrick Payne, her father, Tormund and Jon Snow, and Ser Davos, and Septa Marona. Big Ape, Ronnell Connington, Khal Hosho, and Prince Alexi. And King Bran the Broken, and Queen Daenerys, and their Hand Tyrion Lannister.

She saw both the sad face of Renly Baratheon and Lady Catelyn Stark. 

Even her foes came to her: stern, with ever pursed lips, Stannis Baratheon, Ruse Bolton with empty gray eyes, and Littlefinger, even damned Sandor Clegane.

She wandered among ghosts, nodding to those whom she knew well and carefully watched those who still held evil against her. Or, in any case, was not going to forgive her. 

However, she didn’t need forgiveness or atonement. 

She just wanted to stay among them. She just never wanted to leave.

In the end, he appeared, and, happy despite everything, she hugged him and snuggled up to him, inhaling the familiar smell and enjoying the familiar warmth. In this embrace, the pain finally receded. Oh, blessed intimacy, she thought. A human becomes a person only by sensing it, letting themselves into it, growing out with it, like a seed sprouting from the ground. 

Her twisted dream became brighter, replete with colors and touch. In her oblivion, she saw herself entangled in bright green branches, and beautiful blue and white buds blossomed on her.

\- Brienne. Brienne! Do not leave.

But she did not think to leave. She hugged him tightly, allowing the unearthly flowers to braid them together, to hide them from everything around.

\- Brienne! Say something. Please.

He called and called, repeating her name with persistent despair. Finally, she opened her eyes and saw a stone floor in front of her, and faint light from the corridor, and all at once realized that his voice had not disappeared.

She sat up, groaning softly.

\- Brienne!

His voice came from outside, but she could not see Jaime. She staggered up and went to the bars, and grabbed them so as not to fall. Her shackles rang steel against steel.

\- Oh, glory to all Gods. Are you there? Say something.

She looked around and noticed some movement in a few cells from her own. It was too dark to make out. She could not see him, only the edge of blankets, and a wooden bucket. And then Brienne shook with horror.

\- Jaime! Why are you... what are you... are you here?  
\- Well, of course, I am here, - he grumbled displeased. – But they put me mayhap purposely in the cell where I can’t see you. Are you all right?

She powerlessly pressed her forehead to her hands.

\- I am all right. As far as it can be… What happened?

\- Nothing peculiar. I don’t know for sure. Probably, I'm just tired of playing these games. We played a lot in childhood, and most of the time it was funny, innocent, you know. She is my twin sister. But now we are too tired of it. Of everything. Of each other.

\- I do not understand.

He grunted.

\- I'm a bad liar. I’ve lived with you for a very long time, and have forgotten how to craft a perfect falsehood.

She slipped down the bars, clinging with her wet fingers, and remained sitting, staring aimlessly at half-darkness in front of her.

\- She put you in a cage?

\- Sweetling, it happened way back in Volantis. Or maybe much earlier. Let's just say... now it just became more obvious.

\- Why?  
\- If you want to know what broke her, then this was such a trifle. 

Gods, what a talkative old man, Brienne thought with fondness.

\- Why? - She repeated louder.

\- I've never managed to please her there, upstairs, in her splendid bed. Truth to be said, and in Volantis too. It just happened that I stopped loving her.

Brienne silently waited for him to continue.

\- Last night I could not stand it. I do not think what has happened was the main reason. Rather, the last straw. We were pretending to be able to bring everything back. Our love was never pure and pleasant, but at least once we were young and full of vigor and all sorts of great plans. It washed off the bad aftertaste, you know. Lannisters love to win. Cersei is no exception. She is the brightest of her father's children. Our wins were our remedy for a long time. But alas, since the moment we reunited, we’ve started to hate and despise each other.

He laughed sadly.

\- I suspect, it is because we’ve started to hate and despise ourselves. I've broken down at some moment. I told her that if she wants to return my manly readiness, she has to order you be brought in the fucking bedroom.

Brienne exhaled stunned, and he seemed to hear.

\- I apologize for it. It was an unpleasant joke.

\- And a stupid one. Given the aftermaths.

\- That would happen sooner or later. Don't you understand yet? My sister is mad. Whether her suffering has broken her or only allowed to break out to what has always lurked inside, I do not know. I loved her and I'm sorry to see what she’d turned into. But I would be the last coward if I pretended not to notice.

\- Do you know what happened to the girl? Theya, a girl from Volantis?

Uncertain silence followed.

\- I am so sorry. I have never seen these children, but I...  
\- But they saw you there. They remembered... Poor things. They helped me find you.

\- I was beaten, wounded, and after that was given poppy milk. Everything was in a haze, like a nightmare dream. I barely remember the faces around. Your kind heart found these children, but all this is just so… Unfair. Too bad it happened, Brienne.

He became silent again. She clutched cage’s bars nervously:

\- Do you know something? 

\- I pleaded her, I've been trying to persuade her, but she fell into insanity and hate. She gave an order to bring the girl’s head here.

Brienne started to cry softly, helplessly.

\- Were they lovers indeed? - Jaime asked quietly.

\- Both served in a brothel. They grew up in it, did not know any other life. They were forced to do many terrible things. Not for gold, but just for food.

There is nothing worse, she thought in despair, than shedding the blood of the innocent. The children did not see anything in this life, except for inconceivable humiliations and filth, except for hunger and poison.

And now, when they disappear, she will forever lose the remains of her honor.

\- Please, do not cry. You were kind to them, - Jaime said as if reading her thoughts. – You did what you can. You have not lost your honor; you could not save them. This is not your fault. But how did you follow me? Why did you go after me?

She told him about the cloak and Tyrion's confession. When she finished the story, Jaime bitterly uttered:

\- You were always clever, and I admire your stubbornness. However, you should know something else. All this was a trap. She stole Joanna and killed Ronnel. These were not random pirates and slave traders, they were her people and they took her orders. She was tired of waiting for me to return to her of my free will. I think she even no longer believed it. She almost killed Joanna, and it should give me the strength to murder her. But I'm weak, Brienne. I am weak and I am lost. I made a lot of mistakes and I am a rotten person. You loved talking about my honor so much, and yet I lost it many years ago. So long ago that I don’t even remember if I had any. I made a lot of mistakes. I dishonored you, and I saved her, I returned her to this world. Who will say that I’ve made this world a better place bringing her back? Those charred corpses in the yard, those people whom she tortured and killed? Those cities that she now conquers? Those poor twins? Before the Dragon Queen attack, I was sitting on a leash, caught by her soldiers, and I was telling my brother that I do not care about the whole city and its inhabitants, innocent or not. He begged me to give a sign for Daenerys, to surrender the city so that her anger would not burn it. Do you think I chose a feat?

\- I know what happened back then. 

\- Yes, you do. But has Tyrion ever told you what a fucking bloody traitor I was?

Brienne silently wiped away her tears.

\- "I don't care about the innocents,” I told him. It was the truth that I hid for so long. And I didn't care for sure. I wanted to go after her, take her away, hide somewhere, stay together and fuck her. And finally, all the filth of the world could not be compared with our wild and forbidden pleasure. No, Brienne, I have not had an honor for a long time. There was not a drop of it in my words and my deeds. And then, when you came to my prison cell, you had a child. Oh, those astonishing blue eyes, they looked with such innocent hope. So painfully trusting. I had to protect you both, my son and you, but instead, I again seduced you. It was not a hard thing. As soon as you entered that dark room, the world became so beautiful. And I wanted to take it to myself, all this light, all these joys, everything good and unshadowed. I was selfish, cocky and arrogant. Fucking Lannister. Someone else's wealth becomes our own if we see that no one can defend it. And who would have protected you from me? Who would stop you, the naïve girl in love, when you just shone every time I smiled. I needed someone to look at me that way. I wanted, I craved it. It seemed to me then, for my son and you, I would become better. I wanted a different life, I wanted to stay with you. I was always jealous, a true miser, a true tyrant. I needed my jealousy to stop burning me so that my heart would be satisfied. I could loosen my grip, let you go, escort you to Tarth and then disappear, go after her and crumble away with or without her somewhere in the eastern lands, but no. No, I thought I was supposed to get more. How inane I was. We Lannisters always kill those we love. And if we don’t murder, then we subject our beloved ones to such torment that anyone would prefer death.

\- Jaime, listen...

\- Forgive me, Brienne. I ruined your life; I broke everything that I loved. I've always begged you for forgiveness, and perhaps you did not understand why there was so much remorse. Now you will understand.

She was silent for a moment, trying to find the words, but what escaped her lips was the only thought what plagued her:

\- Have you never loved me?

\- I have loved you inconceivable all these years. I still do and Gods know I will, to the last breath. And I loved endlessly, fell in love more and more, and was jealous and happy, as a boy, as a youth. I wanted you, admired you, and wanted to give myself into your full possession. I opened you up, grew in you, you became a part of my soul, of my every thought. But don’t you understand, you stupid wench, that love can destroy, can butcher, can cause incredible pain? Love without honor, without self-denial, the love all Lannisters deliver is a poison. Look at my sister when she comes here and you will see my reflection in her. We are twins after all. We are damn twins, and this cannot be changed by the very best of my intentions.

\- But you chose a different life. You chose us.

\- I was infinitely proud of it. And what is the end? Pride and avidity had brought me here, Brienne. I think and think, and think of all my faults. I can not let it go. It was worth it only once to try and cease, and leave you alone, and stop wanting to possess all that was never rightfully mine.

\- No. If you left us on your free will, it would cause children and me so much pain it’s hard to even imagine!

Jaime was silent. Then he reluctantly said:

\- Tyrion would find a way. Maybe he would help me.  
\- Or your sister? Or she had already? After all, here at Ibben, your imaginary plan was embodied more than real. Are you happy with how everything turned out?  
\- No!  
\- Would you like us to mourn you, and then, deceived, let you go and leave you alone?  
\- I do not mean that…

\- So you shouldn't waste your strength imagining other mistakes you could have made, - she snapped.

A bitter laugh burst out from him. After a while, Jaime said:

\- You’ve learned this from me.

\- What?

\- The wit. Sharp words. I know it had been in your thoughts. Your tongue is sharp, you are smart and think fast. I'm sorry I didn't help you reveal this. Your shyness turned me on. I should...

\- Oh, fuck it. If you begin to list all your mistakes again, please do not bother, - she cracked back. - I'll help you, just let me guess. The first and the main mistake: you were born. Born as a Lannister in the family full of other Lannisters.

He began to laugh throaty.

\- Gods! Sometimes it seems that I know you completely, and then I discover something new again. Oh, Brienne, beloved wench. I admired you from the moment when... Hm, I don’t remember the exact moment when it happened. 

She smiled, looking into the darkness.

\- Jaime. People are made for mistakes, and therefore must make them and pay. But our children were not a mistake. As all our years together.

Jaime was moving in his cage, she heard the ringing of metal, some soft muffled sounds. Then he said, and it seemed to her that his voice was trembling:

\- In a dream, I was looking for you. You and the children. And had not found. I took this as a sign that I should stop myself, give up my hopes, and let you go. And when I saw you in the Hall of Shadows, I felt a great fear. Endless, dark, tenacious horror.

Brienne pressed her forehead against the cool bars.

\- That was my mistake, I suppose. I will pay for it, as befits a knight, who was knighted by the famous Jaime Lannister.

\- I should have become the Queenslayer for a change. Betraying for me is not new, not hideous. But… she is still my sister.

\- How had Cersei known that Alexi was a traitor?

\- Someone who was tortured and interrogated here for Black Wing connections pointed to him. However, he was under suspicion for a long time. His family did not want to surrender Saath. Besides, Cersei believed that he was too gentle with you. He reluctantly carried out her orders. This not only angered her but also caused her doubts.

\- I was stunned when he revealed himself to me. He promised to free us both. In exchange for it, he asked our protection of Saath. What do you think she will do with us now?

\- I cannot even guess what is happening in her insane soul. But perhaps she will be able to curb her madness. Greed was added to her disgusting features lately. Perhaps she will ask for a double ransom. She told me more than once that she intended to take the full payment from the Tarth family. I don’t know what she meant and what Cersei could design.

\- But if we're still alive… - Brienne began timidly.

\- The hope is still here. And if this does not last long, then I want you to know. I always wanted to die in the arms of the woman I love. When I die, I will pray one thing.

He fell silent, and Brienne suddenly felt endless fatigue and sadness, tender as light, as the touch of sea wind.

\- Brienne. Promise that you will love me even after my world’s end. Even then.


	9. Birds fly high

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- Do you imagine you punished me by falling out of love? Today I will punish you with the same.

This was a land of fogs, they came every morning, and by afternoon they rose upwards, revealing the harsh beauty of the surrounding rocks and flowering tundra as if someone with a huge hand took off the veil from a beautiful face.  
Brienne felt the autumn wind on her face, and the world seemed so beautiful to her.

She suddenly understood why many of the condemned did not resist; this pacification was wrong in their situation, but inevitable. She looked at her husband and saw that he also fell into this carefree numbness.

The bright rays gilded the vastness around; the mountains seemed a bunching of precious crystals. The air was fresh and gentle, and birds glided freely in the sky above the palace. She saw the white crane’s flock.

Wouldn't you like to become a bird? 

Fly high above your land and home and see their faces again, hear their voices again. For the last time, she thought. 

Kneeling by the malachite throne, they both looked peacefully ahead. Cersei ordered to put this disgusting heavy collar on Jaime, and its dark metal rim had already wounded him, his shirt was stained with blood. His hair moved slightly under the touch of the wind. 

Brienne regrettably looked at her hands in shackles. 

Are we destined to die in chains? What a lamentable doom for a knight.

She was scared by the thought of impending torture, but a near end promised hope. It won't last long, she told herself. It never lasts long. No matter how much the executioner wished, the victim would not last long enough to please him. The executioner will always be dissatisfied, and the victim will fall into oblivion or madness, slip out of his hands before the body surrenders. Maybe, she thought, Cersei would spare her twin brother. Maybe she will mutilate Brienne but will have mercy on Jaime. Maybe his death will be easy. 

And then they will meet there, behind an invisible veil separating the dead from the living.

It will be a blue sea, she decided. Blue waves of Tarth.  
Like her father, he will turn to her and smile and will call for her.

\- You were always stupid, Jaime, - Cersei said, - you never knew how to choose the right side. Your whole life turned out to be a mistake.  
\- Didn't you say that we were destined to leave the world together? - He asked mockingly. – If so, you execute me to your disadvantage.

She grinned:  
\- We could leave together, only loving each other. I believed in our love once. Do you think I believe now?

Jaime shrugged indifferently.

\- Think as you like. Maybe I was stupid, and I will remain so, but you have not learned much over the years too.

She looked at him in disgust.

\- Do you imagine you punished me by falling out of love? Today I will punish you with the same. 

\- Come on then, - he retorted coldly. - What are you waiting for? Go get this. You’ve been craving revenge for so long.

She sat down on the throne, and several of the soldiers who stood in silent rows around stepped forward.

\- Are we ready? - She asked with a gloom smile.

Dothraki, a young man with a face decorated by painted patterns in northern fashion, dressed in full armor, bowed slightly:

\- We put up perimeter security, as he taught us, - he nodded at Jaime. - Warriors stand in three circles. The first forms wedges. The arrows on the walls will be ready very soon. This castle is safe.  
\- See, Jaime? You did not spend your time here in vain, - she turned to him with a venomous grin.  
\- Great. Do not bother to thank me, - he snapped.

Cersei with a sour face turned away.

\- When to wait for arrival?  
\- When the sun rises higher, my Queen, - the commander said, - they are not escorted. Move fast. They didn’t surrender their weapons, but...  
\- You did everything right. I told you, let them in any way. We welcome dear guests with a pure heart.

Brienne looked at Jaime and him, as if feeling, glared hasty at her over the shoulder.

\- What's going on here? - he asked carefully.  
\- Your redemption, Jaime. That's what going on.

He lowered his head. Brienne stared anxiously at the warriors. Cersei nodded to the Dothraki, and he headed for the exit. Several people marched out with him, but most remained. They stood motionless, like stone statues. Ibbeni with painted red and black patterns on their faces. Dothraki. Hirelings from the southern lands. Not less than forty people, and also the guards in galleries and at the door. In the Hall of Shadows now nearly fifty warriors stood, well trained and armed cap-a-pie.

Cersei beckoned to the servants, and they brought her a jug of wine and a golden goblet. While the wine was being poured, she sat back in the throne with a smug look.

\- Isn’t it too early for wine? - Jaime, of course, was not going to suppress his dubious eloquence even before death.  
\- We are celebrating, - Cersei explained in a complacent tone. - If you keep your mouth shut, I can order to pour you some.  
\- Then for my wife too.

Brienne gave him a furious look, but he did not react at all.

\- She, too, will get everything she deserves. We are all related to each other, after all. Let's have a farewell family feast.

Chill ran down Brienne's back. Jaime, however, did not let up:

\- Feast like Frey’s? Or something like the wedding with Tyrell girl?  
\- You guessed it right.

One of the guards on the galleries raised his hand and said something.

The servant leaned towards Cersei:

\- He says the guests are approaching.  
\- Perfect. So it will all start earlier. - She took a sip of wine. - Let our warriors be ready. Do not shoot anyone.

In the courtyard, orders in several languages rang, weapons clinked, and the clatter of many horses was heard. Someone yelled. Brienne heard the steps of many legs, and then everything calmed down. Through the noise of the wind and the bird's cries, in the distance, she thought she heard the sound of hooves.

Cersei nodded to the soldiers guarding Jaime and Brienne, and they both were unceremoniously pulled up from their knees. Cersei went to the railing, not letting go of her goblet. Her luxurious black gown with a long tail rustled in complete silence. 

Moments later Brienne was dragged to the railing, and she froze, not believing her eyes.

The sun was shining now, standing at zenith. No single cloud in the blue sky. The tundra was visible to the very edge - to the distant Port Ibben cliffs. Seven horsemen approached the castle gate.

\- What the... - Jaime gasped.

She thought the same thing, but her amazement was mixed with icy fear. 

They rode the horses, looking forward fearlessly and frankly. Podrick and Arthur, both in golden armor. Arthur raised his sword, slightly drawing aside his hand. Joanna, covered by a red-white cloak, repeated her brother’s gesture. The sun hit the Valyrian steel.

Podrick’s blond, almost white hair was gathered in a bun on the back of his head, his temples, always shaved, suddenly seemed to her from afar silvered gray. Joanna's braids sparkled with gold.  
Sansa's horse was the most beautiful - an elegant white filly, which moved, like her owner, with natural, delicate grace. Sansa was dressed in black leather armor, hardly familiar to her, but she held herself impeccably. Her long and straight hair flew up in the wind and fell off with every movement.  
A younger sister rode beside her - as slender as ever, thin and brave. From afar, she seemed calm and prepared. A strand of blue hair knocked out from under a gray hood. The hood with its long edge covered almost all of her face so that only her eyes and this blue strand were visible. 

And finally, on the young stallions, a little distance from the rest, the boys rode. They seemed to Brienne older and taller than she remembered. Blond-haired, stubborn, unsmiling, both dressed in Tarth's armor.

When this detachment approached the Shadow troops, Cersei nodded to someone below, and a powerful shout rolled down the courtyard. The gates began to open. Slowly, the soldiers of the cavalry and the foot troops parted, forming a passage in which two horsemen could pass. The children regrouped, their horses slowed down. Looking at no one, Podrick first, they moved between the rows of enemies, and with each step, Brienne felt her heart pounding harder. Her chest ached, a bitter lump rolled up her throat.

\- What is this for? - Jaime raised his voice. - Cersei! What are you doing?!

She did not turn to him. A smug grin played on her face.

\- I promised that we will arrange a true family meeting.  
\- Order... order the soldiers not to let them in.  
\- Do you want them to be killed right in front of the gate?  
\- Not! Let them turn back.  
\- Why? They have come all this way, at least greet them. After all, these are your children. Are you not happy to see each other?

Brienne grabbed the stone railing, her palms wet with fear. Podrick stopped in front of the gate and raised his head. Following him, the others stared at the gallery. They watched up, no doubt noticing her and Jaime.

No, she thought, please, no. Go away. Go away from here. Run.

But Podrick nodded to her, then to the father, and a faint affectionate smile touched his lips. He bowed his head and rode into the courtyard.

They were brought into the Hall of Shadows and they approached the throne, completely unperturbed and in watchful silence. Jaime and Brienne, both on their knees, with the guards' swords pressed to their backs, looked at their children with a mixture of fear, relief, and pain.

\- Hand over the weapon, - the Dothraki barked at the guests.

Podrick and Arthur looked at their father. Joanna frowned. Catelyn stubbornly laid her hand on the hilt of her sword. The twins held crossbows in their hands, and both, as if on command, raised them, but Brienne caught Galladon's eyes and shook her head carefully. Sansa, always obedient, ready for peace, not war, was the first to cast her sword at the foot of the malachite throne.

Cersei raised her voice:

\- What are you waiting for? A sword is behind the back of your mother, and you stand here as if deaf. Should I let her bloodshed?

\- Don’t touch her, - Podrick said, he took a step toward Cersei, and Brienne noticed that she had slightly recoiled. The growth and strength of her eldest son sometimes frightened people.

Podrick threw the sword at her feet and stepped back, looking at the Queen of Shadows with his impassive blue gaze.

Joanna laid down her sword carefully, as if afraid to hurt the Oathkeeper. Arthur threw his weapon angrily, giving Cersei a contemptuous grin. 

He was very similar to his father in his youth, and this did not escape Queen’s attention. Cersei leaned forward slightly, staring at him with obvious interest. The twins laid down their crossbows without discharging them. The last handed over weapon was Catelyn's. She did not open her face still.

My poor girl, Brienne thought bitterly.

\- I've already let you in with weapons, - Cersei said in an icy tone. - You must appreciate my generosity. Now it is time to speak unarmed.  
\- What do you want? - Arthur interested bluntly.

She turned her head to him with a slow predatory smile:

\- How old are you?

He did not answer, only lifted his chin higher.

\- Eighteen? Twenty? At this age, your father's name has already been written down in the White Book.

\- Why do I have to listen to this?

She sipped her wine.

\- It's amusing to watch how the children do not copy the best features of their parents, but, on the contrary, grow into a poor resemblance. Everything in this world is fading, they say. Parents perform feats and win wars, and children play with snots out of boredom... Well, I did not expect much from the children of this cow, your pitiable mother.

Podrick measured her with a strange - mocking and slightly condescending - look. Knowing her son, Brienne decided that he simply did not take Cersei seriously. He never knew this woman, she thought. He did not learn to fear her.

Arthur spoke again:

\- Our father is a Lannister. As you, Lady Cersei. If there is something in us that you don’t like, ask yourself, maybe it's Lannisters blood. What do you want? We brought a ransom. You can send a troop for it right now. It’s a ship full of gold, gems, and best perfectly crafted armor.

Cersei winced and again brought the goblet to her lips.

\- You don't get it, fools? I don't need your gold. The ransom is you. 

Brienne turned to Jaime, but the sword, which hitherto rested on her back, now pressed against her neck. A sharp blade touched the skin under her chin and blood trickled.

\- Well, Jaime. Now you understand what your dirty brood is for? Bring me his sword.

The servant brought the Cursed Gift.

\- I said I would be merciful. I should have got the fee for everything I lost, for everyone I loved, for Joffrey, for Myrcella, for Tommen. Three children who are no longer there and these fools still stomp the earth and dare to grin right in my face. - She glanced at Podrick. - I know how much pain their death will cause you. Oh, I want you to feel it completely. But I will let you go.

She went to Jaime and gently ran a finger along his cheek.

\- Lannisters should not kill each other. I will let everyone go and you will return to Tarth. That is my decision.

He looked up at his sister, not understanding, not believing, and desperate to believe at once, in some sort of bewitched trepidation.

\- Let it all be over, my brother. May it all end today and forever.  
\- Cersei, I ... - he began and stopped short. Brienne saw a tear sliding down his cheekbone.  
\- Your world will not be the same, and everything will change from this day. Remember, however, always remember my grace. 

He raised his hand to wipe his face, and Brienne saw that his fingers grabbed her narrow, tender palm. Jaime kissed her hand and looked down. Cersei, smiling serene, leaned over and kissed his temple. Not straightening, she said:

\- Make a choice, and then leave. Let me live and breathe calmly.

She straightened up and turned to the others:

\- Once your father allowed all his children to die. He was weak, he made mistakes. Today he will repay for it. You have to be brave and you should be thankful to him. Those who survive will always remember this. This is his gift to you. Someday you could appreciate it. He will choose one, only one of seven. He will take a sword and execute the chosen one. The rest, with him and Brienne, will leave unharmed.

Brienne jerked her whole body, and the sword on her neck injured her again.

\- Otherwise, I will make a choice. And before that I will take her life, - Cersei gestured at Brienne. - Do you want that? Jaime, do you want that?

He was silent, shocked. The children looked at Brienne, and she could no longer bear it. She lowered her eyes, her body shivering uncontrollably.

\- Oh please, - The Queen signaled to the guard, and he grabbed Brienne’s hair, pulled her head back and bared her neck. - So be it.

\- No, - Joanna cried.  
\- Mama! - Sansa and Catelyn repeated almost in unison. There was sheer horror in their voices.

\- Please, - Arthur was the first to find the words. - Lady Cersei, please do not hurt her.

Cersei approached him.

\- Your children are smarter than you, - she sneered, not looking back at her brother. - They already understood everything, didn’t they? Just one, Jaime. You'll still have six left. And your beloved wife. If you want, you could climb on her, find a little seed in your nasty old body and make another child. She is younger. She is still capable of it.

\- You're fucking insane, - he whispered. - Cersei, what are you talking about? What are you wishing for? What the fuck are you doing?!

\- I'm not forcing you, - she went to Podrick, looking him up and down. - I could not choose who to lose, but you can. Joffrey was taken from me, you let Myrcella die, and then my youngest son was brought to the point where he preferred to kill himself. All this happened in front of your eyes and you were not once let me know that you feel sorry for them.

\- That's not true, - Jaime said with desperation.

\- But I will be sorry for the one you going to slay today. I will mourn for your child because I have a heart. Something you've never had.

\- Joffrey, - Cersei said, looking into Podrick's face.  
\- Myrcella, - she looked at Joanna.  
\- Tommen, - she turned to the twins. - Remember the names of those who will be avenged today. There, behind the veil, tell them that I loved them and still love them madly.

\- Lady Cersei, please, listen to me. I pray you, release my mother and the others, - Arthur said quietly and calmly. - I can do what you're wishing for. I will stay. You can execute me if you want to. Do not force the father to make such a choice. He will not... He cannot.

\- He can. Or I will help, - Cersei answered with inexplicable warmth. – Answer me, Jaime! Who will you pick over to get out of here? I need only one life. One for many. Maybe this wordless monster?

She went to Podrick. He looked down at her, and through his face, Brienne saw that he was holding back with all his might. He cast a glance at his mother, then at his father, and again stared scowlingly at the Queen of Shadows.

\- He doesn't look like Lannisters. It never occurred to you why she named him after her squire? Maybe he is not your son indeed, - Cersei laughed shortly. - Tell me, Podrick, do you believe that she conceived you from the worthy knight Ser Jaime Lannister?

\- Shut your mouth, - was everything Podrick uttered.

Cersei only giggled and, shaking her head with false empathy, turned to Arthur:

\- And maybe the handsome one? He is the only one who dared to speak to me. But he is young and arrogant. He thinks that the knight is made by sword and dress, and he likes to wear his shining armors, but he is full of stupid pride and he is all-in-all useless.

Arthur frowned at her and then transferred the gaze at his father.

\- Or this poor fool, your eldest daughter? Her life is so useless too, so meaningless. What kind of fairy tale did you love to listen to as a child? Father told you that tale again and again.

Joanna anxiously licked her lips and spoke softly:

\- The tale of ... a one-armed knight and a bear. And a beautiful maiden.

Cersei burst out laughing.

\- How touching. And what did you learn from this fairy tale, honey? Let me guess. Not a thing. Your mother was braver than you. She did not try to hang herself when she was tortured and then thrown into a bear pit. You are weak. You are a coward. You are worthless. You have been mutilated. More precisely, you disfigured yourself, with your own hands. Who needs you now? The widow of a beggar lord, the daughter of a traitor. The rumor about your dishonor will go through all the lands, and everyone will speak behind your back, that you've been raped in the Volantis brothels. They will despise you and shame you. This is your future. Your one-armed knight will not save you, honey, today it's time to grow up. But I know what he can do. He will be able to end your worthless life, and you will thank him if at least a little sanity remains in you.

\- Leave her alone, - Podrick said angrily. – Stop blather. This is fucking bloody rubbish.

\- Or maybe you will choose this little dove? - Cersei went to Sansa and grabbed her chin. - Just look how adorable she is. What are you capable of, sweetling? Weave wreaths of wildflowers? Singing love songs? You were named in honor of the greatest Westeros traitor, in honor of the vile whore, but I see only innocence and a weak mind in you. As if you were created to be deceived by everyone. Do you even know how to speak, silly girl? Oh, it’s probably not even easy for your parents to sell the hole between your legs to some rich lord. Look at me, don’t be afraid. Can you speak? Smile at least. You are adorable, I swear.

She turned Sansa's face from side to side.

\- You are doing amiss, Lady Cersei, - Sansa muttered, her voice trembling. - All the people that you have trampled into the mud will no longer obey you. You are a queen at the outlaw. You are the usurper. Ib has never crowned strangers. Ibbeni people will fight for their freedom. And you will lose. You have already lost.

Cersei, surprised, released girl’s chin out her tenacious fingers and even retreated slightly.

Sansa suddenly turned to the warriors and spoke, her voice sounded clear and ringing, and the words of foreign language shot up to the ceiling as a flock of awakened birds. Brienne noticed that some of the Ibbenese looked at each other in careful bewilderment. Others began to shift from foot to foot. The air in the hall has changed, filled with danger and uncertainty.

Inspired, Sansa turned to those who stood by the throne. She repeated the same phrase several times.

Cersei listened in disgust, and then raised her hand and heartily slapped Sansa’s face. Sansa gave a short cry, turned away trying to evade and nearly lost her balance.

\- Don't you dare, - Jaime roared and jerked his whole body. The guard grabbed his collar and could barely hold him. The second guard stuck a long lance between his collarbones.

\- I will kill you, damn bitch, - Jaime fought between the guards as if caught in a cage. - I swear to you, if you touch her again, I will kill you.

\- We'll see, - Cersei said dryly, not turning to him. - What did you chirp, stupid creature? The birds fly high? The birds see everything? Black Wing draws near and brings freedom to Ib? Do you believe in these tales? If you utter one more word in Ibbenese, they will rip your innocence right here, right in the middle of the Shadow Hall. And we will see how you like to chat when your legs are spread wider. Oh, but look what you've brought your father to. He’s eager for battle! Does he seem to love you more than others? Is that the secret of your stupidity? He was too soft with you.

She went to Catelyn and unceremoniously pulled the hood off her face. Brienne started, as if from a hit. Cat, however, did not move. She looked at Cersei with such overt hatred that she could burn her up.

\- Surely he loves you, pretty girl, more than this pockmarked face. You should not have been born at all, - Cersei smiled with one of her happiest smiles. - Poor thing. Did you see yourself in the mirror? I’m sure that your parents tell you to come out less often so that you don’t ruin people's mood and appetite.

\- I can ruin your mood right now, - Catelyn snapped boldly. - You won't like it.  
\- And you are not a fool, unlike the sisters. They say ugly people are forced to develop their cunning and other virtues to arrange their lives. For example, your mother ...  
\- They also say that beauties like you over the years become nauseating both in character and in appearance, - Cat smiled back at her. - They don’t know how to put up with what they eventually lose.

\- One more word and your mother will die not from the sword, but tasting the Dothraki whip, darling.

Brienne suddenly realized that Cersei was exasperated and fearful. Her false calm and wit disappeared somewhere. The children stood in front of her in a row, not moving, and did not present a great danger, they were disarmed, with their parents being hostages - and yet The Queen was afraid of them.

\- Ah. The twins. This is the simplest solution. One of them, - Cersei noticed, looking down at the boys - Only one. There are two, and they still look the same. You will murder one, and the other will live. Are you ready to share the right to live with each other?

\- Leave both alone, - Podrick barked in fury.

Brienne saw that Galladon had found Gerion's hand. They looked at Cersei with outright horror - the only ones of them all. Gerion began to quiver finely.

\- Jaime? Did you choose? - She went to him, limping and frightening as the fate itself. - Lift him.

The guard pulled him up, putting Jaime on his feet.

\- Are you going to accomplish the feat, my dear brother? The knightly feat, the shining justice. If you wish, we will blindfold you, the children will stand in a circle, and you will hit at random. Fate will choose the path for you. And then it's all over. I promise. I promise you.

He raised his face, wet with tears, full of hatred so frank that Brienne flinched.

\- Go to Hell.

Cersei approached him closely:

\- Even if I am destined to go there, I will take what I consider mine, - she hissed. - You sign them a sentence. You are pathetic. Weak-willed. Let them see what kind of father they have.

\- Cersei, - Brienne could not stand it. - I'm begging you! Let the children go. They are not to blame for anything. They never wished you harm. Why do you need this sacrifice? It makes no sense.

Cersei jerked her whole body and turned to her.

\- There is always meaning, - she said quietly, and Brienne saw that she had turned paler than snow. - He who makes one sacrifice will atone for another. Don't you get it yet? I'm trying to save my brother! Save from everything he has done!

Brienne blinked, trying to banish the tears off her eyelashes. The sword that touched her neck was still too close to even take a deep breath.

\- Jaime is too weak to save you, your children and yourself. I will help him, - Cersei limped to the children.

She signaled to the two Dothraki soldiers, and they came closer.

\- This one, - she poked at Gerion.

\- No! Please!  
\- Lady Cersei!  
\- Cersei, don't!

Their voices, full of plea and terror, swept across the hall. Jaime trashed so hard that the guard kicked his back. He fell, then clumsy knelt and crawled to his sister.

The Dothraki seized Gerion, lifted him off the floor. The boy twitched in their hands, clutching their iron fingers. He dangled helplessly, like a puppet. Cersei walked toward the gallery.  
The guards swiftly positioned the boy on the railing, and one of them kept hold of him, grabbing by the chest plate.  
Gerion stretched his hands forward and then looked over his shoulder in utter dismay.

\- Do you remember what you have done to the Starks boy, Jaime?  
\- Sister, please!  
She spoke with a bloodless and unemotional face, with only her lips smiling:

\- His mother could have begged you too. What would you do if you heard her then?

Jaime tried to get up and was kicked in the legs.

\- She could plead you, shedding tears or threatening. And you would still do what was needed. You knew there was no other way. The things we do for love, Jaime. Let me do it for you.

She turned to the boy, and the guard let him go. Gerion nearly fell, his soles were slipping on a worn-out stone, but Cersei managed to grab him by the elbow. Brienne started to get up, not bothering about the sword on her neck. The guard pulled her hair and put his knee between her shoulder blades.

\- Don’t, - Gerion said, startled and timid. – Please don’t. If you do this, my father will never forgive you.

For a few seconds, Cersei watched almost painfully tender, as if fascinated. Gerion’s long face was sad and solemn; the locks of golden hair were ruffled by the wind. His green eyes suddenly became full of yearning and sympathy.

\- Oh. He will, - she retorted in bitter despair and then unclenched her fingers. - He will always forgive me.

Gerion hesitated for a moment on the edge, helplessly searching for something to hold at, and then Cersei as if losing her patience pushed him into the chest with both hands, and he flew down.

Brienne heard his cry and some distant soft flap, and she closed her eyes. There was a ringing deafening silence in her ears.

Further things happened terribly fast and infinitely slow at the same time. People moved around her as if under water, glided back and forth, and the waves of their screams and panic rolled up and broke on the icy void inside her.

She heard a sharp click, a whistle, and a crossbow bolt stuck into Cersei's neck, exactly under her chin. Blood spattered on her dress and the golden lion's head. She took several uncertain and staggered steps, clutched her neck and pulled the bolt fruitlessly. She was wheezing and hissing, and the small fountains of blood became thick and rapid. Brienne looked up and saw Galladon standing without lowering his crossbow, looking at Cersei in some kind of cold daze.

He was always very fast, Brienne thought distantly. They both were always the fastest of us...

Cersei fell, first to her knees, and then threw herself back. Her body twitched, as if in a seizure.

Podrick crouched and clapped Arthur's shoulder, and both grabbed their swords before the guards could do anything. Jaime grabbed the Cursed Gift, a soldier raised a spear above him, and fell, pierced by a bolt. Catelyn took a crossbow and, reloading, turned to the crowd of soldiers. Sansa caught a sword thrown to her and turned fearless to the Ibbeni. She shouted something to them, and they, embarrassed, began to retreat, several people dropped their weapons.

A screech hit somewhere above Brienne’s head, and the blood flow poured on her. Podrick gripped her hands.

\- Mama! Mama, listen! Put your hands out here.

He cut the chain that held the shackles. Brienne rushed to her husband. 

\- Need to go down, - Jaime muttered. - I need to go down to him.  
\- I know! We will get out. I’ll take a weapon. - She leaned over to unfasten the arrakh from the dead Dothraki’s belt.

Meanwhile, Podrick, Arthur and Joanna were already fighting. Galladon jumped onto the throne, aiming from above. Brienne dragged him down, and for some time they fought together, forming a circle, not allowing the soldiers approaching and break through their defenses. Later, she thought that, probably, they would not have a chance against the large waves of armed soldiers. Her sons and daughters fought fearlessly and frantically, and the Valyrian steel slaughtered without mercy, but there were too many enemies, and there were only eight of them.

Everything was determined by a chance and someone’s courage, as always, as once in the battle where she stood shoulder to shoulder with the living against the dead. When the next attack began to subside, and space was formed around them, filled with wounded and killed, Sansa began to desperately yell in Ibbenese. 

And again they listened to her. Someone dropped their weapons and left the hall, while others turned and hit the Dothraki's back. After a few long minutes, full of screams and the thick smell of blood, everything was over.

Their circle broke up slowly.

Jaime finished several Dothraki at the gallery, Cat ran to help him. She hit the one who dragged Gerion onto the railing, aiming directly into his chest with the spear raised from the floor. Blood spattered on her face, and she howled and then burst into tears.

Jaime leaned toward his sister. She wriggled and wheezed, but it was almost impossible to make out the words. Brienne thought later that she hissed something like: kill. Please, kill.

Jaime started to raise a sword over his sister's chest, then stopped and powerlessly lowered it. His face was contorted, petrified and gray. 

“The things we do for love,” he said detachedly and limped away. 

The short, dressed in black Ibbeni came up, spat on the beautiful face, pulled the crown off Cersei's head and threw it to the side, like a piece of garbage. Then he impassively pierced the dying Queen with his sword. There was a sickening sound, something seemed to burst and break. He brought the sword up again and lowered it with a miffed force and the next moment he lifted Cersei's head.

His dark short fingers tightly and strangely squeezed these gentle fair locks. He went to the throne, carrying his terrible trophy, and the crowd parted reluctantly.

With some hoarse, angry words, the soldier threw Cersei's head under his feet.  
Cries of triumph filled the hall, burst from the castle, and poured over the courtyard.

Sansa again exclaimed something in Ibbeni, and soldiers began to retreat to the door. She showed them the horizon, and Brienne involuntarily turned there.

Under the shining sun of the afternoon, a human avalanche was moving through the passes.

Later, recalling them all, she was always struck by how quickly they approached.

The rejected Khalasars and Saath's army were led by Hosho. Much later, she found out that the Khalasars still decided to fight back several units, including the one that was sent to kill Theya. After that battle rumor from Ib reached Essarya, and Hosho turned the Khalasar north. There, he met the small but fierce army of Tagaez Fen.

There was the Tarth's army together with Big Ape, Podrick Lannister brought them here. King Bran’s units, led by Ser Podrick Payne and Bronn from Blackwater, they were sent by Tyrion Lannister and the Crown. The Stormlands squad, along with Gendry Baratheon and Ser Davos, was assembled by Joanna Connington. 

The troops from the Iron Islands along with Theona. Yara Greyjoy sent them at the request of Catelyn Lannister. 

The yellow-eyed tribes from Iqefevron, led by Arthur Lannister and Dara of Leaves.

And a huge, like the sea, a mixed army of wildlings, Lorathi, northerners, and Ibbenese. They rode in the forefront. Both Tormund and Snow appeared in it. Northerners were sent by Sansa Stark. The rest came here at the request and at the insistence of Ans, who received sad news on the wings of a blackbird.

Ans himself, Ans the Black Wing, rode at the head of his army. The blackbird flew over him from shoulder to shoulder.

Brienne learned all this later. 

After the battle she moved in some sticky and dense fog, barely making out the path. Brienne remembered running somewhere down, down, down. The doors swung open. Someone was walking beside her. Someone screamed, cried.

She saw her son’s body lying in the short green grass. Gerion twitched as if in a spasm, he breathed heavily and hoarsely. These were the scariest sounds she has ever heard. 

The Dothraki, one of those who remained alive, brought up a spear above the dying boy, but then hesitantly raised his head - and she raised her weapon. The soldier managed to strike with a spear, did it in some shocked last jerk, with the clumsiness of a soon dead man. 

A spearhead passed through her shoulder, and the world tore and faded.

Jaime hit him with a sword and cut his face into almost two halves. 

She remembered how she had fallen, and the world before her eyes turned upside down, and the groans and wheezing around merged into one long hum, like the bees humming over a meadow.  
She remembered how Jaime knelt over her son and lifted him, and cried, hugging, pressing his face down this disheveled fair hair. 

The mist started to entangle around, she felt vertigo and suddenly her body lost its weight totally, she became free, as if somebody let her out of everything. And the thought was slow and uninterested:  
What are you doing, wench?  
Are you dying?

And then she was raised up and carried somewhere, and someone big, very big obscured everything around and shielded her from that sweet and sad freedom.

\- Mama, - he said in Podrick's voice. - Mother, please, hold on. Hold on a little more, don't leave me. Don't go from us.  
The world came back in fragments, like broken glass.  
She remembered how Jaime carried her son’s small body, carefully and awkwardly at the same time, pushing everyone away with shoulder, preventing anyone from touching the boy.

The gates collapsed under the onslaught, and the courtyard became crowded and noisy. Swords clanged, Ibbeni shouted and killed the hated strangers, and their faces were scary, warped with anger and pain.

She remembered the ragged journey to the harbors, and the silence around, perhaps woven from her pain and grief.

\- Let's get her out, - Hosho said, - give her to me. I will ride the fastest.

The sky swayed above her, filling with radiant blue, pouring on serenity, silence, and coolness. Around her, there was a smell of horse sweat and human blood, and bitter herbs, and warm autumn, and icy brooks, and sweet berries... and then, suddenly, salty seawater. 

Then someone’s soft warm hands on her face, drops of moisture rolling down her cheeks. Someone spoke and spoke around, in the voices of her children, her husband, and her friends, and beg her to hold on, to stay, not to leave.

Then she slipped into the slumber and, looking around, she saw that she was standing barefoot on a dune.

Gerion stood in the surf, he was quite an adult and seemed to her very handsome, confident and strong. He was wearing a pure white shirt and the breeches rolled up to his knees. And she saw a strange green cloak. Blue and white flowers covered it, opening and entangling, they were alive, they crawled and intertwined.

Her youngest son beckoned to her, and she wandered toward him, stumbling, smiling and crying.

\- Don’t cry, - he said as she touched his chiseled and pale cheekbone. – Mama! I promise I will return soon. Birds fly high. They see everything. He was right, and I could fly too. Now go. Please, go back to them. They call for you. 

The world around her swam and whirled again: misty faces, misty words. 

Someone washed her wound and applied bandages, and then she moaned in pain. Someone said something to her, loudly or quietly, sadly or with a smile, persuaded and called. Someone stroking her hot forehead, and somewhere far away she heard the cries of birds and the sound of the surf. 

And then she slipped away again.

When Brienne opened her eyes, a wooden bulkhead of the cabin swayed over her. She turned her head and saw Jaime and Joanna, both sitting next to the bed. Joanna was reading the book, her beautiful face was as always serious and sorrowful. Jaime looked at his wife point-blank. His warm calloused hand was laying on her forehead. 

She said:

\- Are you all right?

He smiled, and she saw that his hair became almost completely white. All the gold turned into snow and silver.

\- Isn't that what I should ask you, wench?

\- Gerion?...

Joanna dropped the book and gently took her hand:

\- Mother, he is alive. He does not regain consciousness, but he breathes. We are taking you home. We are all going home...

Her lips were trembling.

\- Come to me, sweetling, - Brienne hugged her and started to kiss her temples and thick braids. - Shhh. Hush. I'm sorry I left you. I’m sorry you saw all of that… I'm sorry I could not defend you, oh, my brave, my fair girl. Forgive me. Forgive us. I love you. I love you all so, so much.

Jaime got up and strode nervously around the small cabin.

\- There is hope. He was injured, but… He is not in agony. He will wake up, you’ll see.  
\- Where are the others? Where is he?  
\- Cat is on the second ship, with Theona. Galladon is with his brother. Big brothers are here, they are sleeping now. Sansa went to see the birds over the deck. I let her. She needs some rest and joy after all that happened. Sansa and Joanna nursed you while you were unconscious.

\- How long?  
\- Several days. The troops of the Black Wing put things in order and cleared Ib from the mercenaries, and we remained on the ships until the battles were over.  
\- Who is now left on Ib?  
\- Ans the Black Wing, Tormund and Snow. They convene a council to find and choose new rulers.

She sat on the bed:

\- I want to see Gerion.

Jaime and Joanna took her to a neighboring cabin. Her youngest son lay under the dark green blanket embroidered with fish and seahorses. His face was serious and pale. Eyes restlessly moved under thin eyelids. Golden eyelashes cast deep shadows on his cheeks. Galladon lay on the bed, at his feet, curled up like a dog.

\- Hey, little knight, - Jaime shook his son's shoulder. – You’ll feel stiff sleeping like that. Go to your place.  
Galladon woke up and looked sleepy at his father, and then he saw Brienne.  
\- Did he speak to you? To you too?  
\- What?  
\- I see him in my dreams, - Galladon said.

Jaime sat by the bed. Joanna looked woefully from mother to father and then to brothers.

\- And what do you see?  
\- He stands in a cloak on which flowers bloom and says that he has learned to fly.

Joanna sobbed softly, but Galladon jerked his shoulder impatiently:

\- That doesn't mean what you thought, sister.

\- What does that mean? - Brienne asked carefully. She sat on the bed and touched her son’s palm.

\- He sees green dreams. The black bird calls for him to learn everything. He will see you as you were little. He will see how our father, still a little boy, plays in the courtyard of Casterly Rock with his brother and sister. He will see the dead rise and go south to fight the living. And many more. It was promised to him ...

\- A blackbird like Ans has?  
\- No. But this bird also wants to help. Soon he will wake up, and you better ask him yourself. Sometimes he speaks such nonsense that I don't understand anything. - Galladon grinned helplessly.

Brienne hugged him with a sigh.

A few days later, the ships of the Iron Islands, the fastest of this flotilla, reached Braavos, passed it, and sailed south.

Brienne sat at her son’s bed and examined his gaunt oval face. She cautiously extended a hand to remove a lock of hair from his eyelid, and suddenly Gerion opened his eyes.

She just looked at him silently. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her chin shook.

\- The birds fly high, - he said with a gentle, strangely adult and tired smile. - I can fly too. I am ready to see him now. I am ready to see everything.


	10. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- A man, he said, needs oceans and rivers, forests and valleys. The roads. Those who live a dream, who are not afraid to follow it, are responsible for themselves. They will go far, their paths are unknown, and perhaps they will never return.

Winter rain stood like a wall above the city. Brienne went out onto the balcony and listened to the droplets knocking on the roofs and the jets of water running through the gutters rustling, and she felt the cold air smells fresh. The fireplace burned hotly in the room. She wrapped herself tightly in the long cloak that her eldest daughter had knitted for her. On such days, she thought, loneliness enters the hearts and reigns in them against to human will.

\- I don't like this winter, - Tormund grunted, approaching her. He had a goblet in his hands. He handed it to her, and Brienne took it, clasping her hands and warming her fingers. - Lukewarm, wet. No snow, no frost, only water is pouring, as if the heavens piss on you all the time.

She sniffed the wine.

\- I think you will like it. I was taught to make it by a small adviser. Tyrion. Wine, sugar and spices, and everything need to be warmed up properly on fire. But there is something else I put here to better taste…

She drank a bit, choked and coughed.

He raised his eyebrows, in a soft and good-natured surprise:

\- Moonshine. Made of the sweet northern rye… Ah yes, you became completely unaccustomed to good swill over the years.  
\- How do you know what I'd been accustomed to? We barely knew each other before the battle with the dead.  
\- Yes, and after that, we could not know each other out better. You were stolen from me.

She tacitly looked at the white strands in his once bright red hair and luxurious beard. Tormund was a handsome man in his way, and years did not spoil him. Over the years, his temper softened, the need to rule and make decisions drove a soldierly, cheerful expression out of his face. He began to frown more often, but at the same time, he looked more sad than angry.

\- You know, you will still be the best woman I have ever known. You are the most beautiful to me.

She just grinned uncertainly:

\- Now that doesn't matter, I suppose.  
\- Where is your husband?  
\- He's at the Tyrion's chambers. They’re probably discussing how to bury their sister, - Brienne said distantly. - Her bones were brought here to King's Landing. But the Lannisters believe she should be buried at Casterly Rock. Close to her mother.

He nodded silently. Then he glanced at her cautiously:

\- Hey. Ser Brienne. Aren't you crying?

Brienne shook her head:

\- Not any more.  
That was the truth. She stopped crying since she came here, in a strange city and other people's rooms. Again she found herself where she had spent all her youth - doing her duty among the strangers, clenching her teeth, driving away any thought about what she wanted for herself. The world became complex and demanded her strength and courage, and the twenty years she spent in paradise now seemed to be lost forever.

\- Do you feel bad here? - Tormund asked, reading something on her face.

She pursed her lips so her chin would not tremble.

\- What happened? - He insisted.

\- Too much ... And practically nothing.  
\- Oh you women, - he shook his head with the most discouraged look. - You will never say directly!  
\- If I had said, what's the use of this? We must live on. We have our duty. I owe too much for the others, I must not speak of myself and whine helplessly.  
\- And in my view, you owe nothing to anyone else. You gave them everything you had.

He was silent for a moment. Then he suddenly turned to her:

\- Let's come with us. With me? No, - he caught her indignant glance. - I'm not talking about that, Brienne. I know who you gave your heart to. I saw everything and from the very beginning. I'm not so stupid. But let's go north? They love you there. Lady Stark loves you. Winterfell prays at you. The free folk will accept you if you want to travel with us. The wind will rush around us, and we will wander through the green forests and private valleys, and admire the flowering fields. You can’t even imagine how beautiful it is behind the wall, how freely you breathe there.

\- You breathe freely not where the wind is fresh, but where there are no heavy thoughts, - she said sullenly.

Tormund was silent for a moment.

\- I thought you were happy these years.  
\- It was so. Have you been?

Caught off guard by her question, he moved his lips and stared wistfully at the rain.

\- Yes, in general, of course, I have. Like everyone, I think. There are no more wars, no enemies, just some small skirmishes and furious hunting for a huge beast. People have become softer, more trusting. The tribes get along well, and most of the clans have reconciled. Their children get married, and they become like one big clan, and soon everyone will become relatives to each other ... Is that good, I suppose?

\- I questioned your happiness, not other's.

\- Well… Looking back, I think I was kind of happy, seeing how my son grows and he becomes strong, brave, worthy of taking over the rule of my people and my lands ... But his decisions became more and more foreign, independent. Too much there came from Snow. His ideas, his stupid knighthood. The boy wanted to bring happiness not only to my lands but to an alien people. I've never actually liked them. I did not understand their language, customs, they are real savages. We are the same only for you, southerners, but in fact, we differ, we are almost enemies. I did not want him to meet with them, and yet he was drawn to their ships and crews, drawn to speak with them, to adopt their habits. In the end, he became the Black Wing, and I could only watch helplessly... I could not stop this, and I could not prevent him.

Tormund's face became sad.

\- I understand you, - Brienne said quietly. - I do.

\- Every day brought me only more anxiety. Lady Stark loves the boy madly, and so she once demanded that I stop all this. But what could we do? Snow told us to leave him alone. And every day I expected that the usurper spies would kill him. He is young. For him, all this is half the game, half the most important thing in life. He sent letters, saw hundreds of people, his face became known among savages and throughout the whole north. Can you imagine what I experienced this year?

\- But you could not have done otherwise. And for this, we are grateful to you, infinitely grateful.

\- Thank only him. Of course, when we’ve found out that you, your children and your husband were involved, we did not hesitate for a minute. But before... Oh, how I wanted Ans to stay with us and not go anywhere. No, Brienne, I was not happy. I lived with the anxieties of my son, even if he was not born of me, and there is not a drop of my blood in him.

\- A family, - Brienne said quietly, - is not about blood. This is what binds people to each other.

Tormund frowned and took the chilled goblet from her. He gulped down the wine and turned away, grimacing.

\- Could you imagine that we will end, becoming relatives?

She laughed awkwardly.

\- I saw that Sansa was in love with a boy. This happened on our first visit. Sansa has a big heart, and she is the most delicate person I ever knew. But turned out she is also extremely brave, and bravery can make you love deeply even knowing it's of no avail. I am glad they finally stay together. And I am sorry that we did not solve this before.

\- Ah yes, I remember your visit to the Wall. Ans then frantically yearned. Snow tried to persuade him to stop, he said, the girls will still appear, and there will be many... There was no use from this.

\- A charming argument. Especially from someone like Jon Snow.

Tormund just snorted.

\- Ans loves her, there are no slightest qualms. You said brave soul can love deep, I'd say a stubborn and straightforward soul loves deeper. And this boy is stubborn like a mammoth. I wish I could take a look at his father. What kind of fortitude lives in this small, hairy people?  
\- Each nation has its heroes. Everyone deserves to have their savior.  
\- You could come with us, - he raised an eyebrow again, grinning awkwardly. - You wouldn't have to worry about ...  
\- If you are by their side, I won’t worry too much. Promise me, that you will look after them. Promise me, that you will take care of them. They accomplished great feats, but for me, they are still children.

\- You have my word, Ser Brienne. Well, in Ib I won’t let him go anymore. He does not want to: he loves our land. Ib was the land of his fantasies, of legends and fairy tales. He told me that he would not stay there while there is our land and while someone is waiting for him at home. Everyone should have a home. Even a nomad soul like my Ans.

Jaime came when it was already dark outside. He looked as always these days, gloomy and sad, and Brienne did not want to disturb him with vain chatter. When Jaime took off his cloak and jacket, she silently carried them to the mantelpiece. He had to cross the courtyard and several open galleries to get into this part of the castle, and his clothes were wet.

\- Take off your shirt, - she suggested.

Jaime shook his head and poured some wine. He noticed empty goblets and a pot left over the fireplace.

\- Was Tormund here? - He asked, sitting down in a chair in front of the fire. - I saw him leave the gallery.  
\- He treated me his swill. He assured me that this is the best he had ever drunk.  
\- Oh, indeed? Better than the giantess milk?

Brienne snorted.

\- What was he doing here? - Jaime asked, and she almost rolled her eyes. She sat on the couch opposite her husband and shrugged, looking into the fire:

\- We made love, managed to come several times.

Jaime took a few deep sips. She glanced carefully at him.

\- Hm. I hope you enjoyed it? - He remarked softly. Brienne burst out laughing, but he only smiled back. His eyes did not laugh anymore. - But what else?

\- He said that he would look after our children. That he was worried a lot when Ans began to speak with his people. That at some point he realized that everything was going too far and he was scared for his son. All this should be familiar to you.

Jaime nodded.

\- It is. Sometimes I feel like a damned fly in amber, life speeds up and they all rush off somewhere, and everything pasts me, pasts, without asking me, without thinking about what I feel... or you. Or poor Tormund. All of us are now those fucking flies in amber.  
\- It's the age, - Brienne said quietly. - What have you been talking to Tyrion for so long?  
\- I have not spoken to him for long. The King wished to see me.

She looked at her husband in dismay.  
\- Have you spoken to King Bran? Of what?  
\- He talks about everything and nothing. Very voluminous and wise. I would say that all this is a husk, the words to cover up some kind of lie or half-truth, but, I believe, this is his way. Perhaps, from his point of view, he speaks clear; it’s just that we can’t guess. This terrible throne ... it grows and the branches sway.

\- I was scared of it too.  
\- He asked me if we agreed to stay and help the twins. Like he doesn’t know the answer ...

Brienne thought Jaime was right. As soon as they appeared in the castle, rooms were already prepared for them; moreover, they were all decorated with sigils and in the colors suited the family. New dresses were waiting for them, just from under the needle, gowns, shirts, camisoles, cloaks, boots and shoes. 

And in the twin’s rooms, there was a chair made of mahogany, with silently sliding wheels, with leather padded armrests. The perfect result of the best masters and blacksmiths efforts.

\- He also asked if I consider my retribution accomplished, - Jaime suddenly said. Brienne cringed, she felt chilly and wanted to hug him. - He asked me whether I now consider myself worthy of all of you.

\- You shouldn't... He shouldn't...  
\- He sees deeper than a simple person. He sees the very heart and all the darkness that has congested there over the years. I decided that I would not answer him, and then I wanted to open myself. I wondered if this wise face would flinch if I told him the truth.  
\- Jaime.  
\- And I said that I would never get rid of guilty, that this was impossible, it would be crazy to even consider. And that, sending the little boy to such execution, he would also have to think about the redemption methods he chose.  
\- Did you say so?  
\- I think so, and I told him so. He brought Gerion to Ibben, as did to all of us. He knew everything and made all our destinies intertwine in this terrible place. He pushed my son out the balcony, albeit with the other's hands, as I had once pushed him. He asked how we are different in this case. Only by me not sitting on the fucking throne, I told him.

\- Oh Gods, Jaime!  
\- But you sat on it, he answered me. So calm, dispassionate. You sat on the Iron Throne, and you refused it, that’s what he told me. But your son cannot refuse, he was chosen, he was destined, and you can no longer hide.

\- This conversation sounds awful even at your retelling. 

\- He probably knew. That something will break through me, and I will express everything. He did not change his face at all. He said that if I want to mourn myself to the end, I must understand what I lost. Part of me, like my hand? Part of my family, my sister, half of my soul? Maybe more? Twenty years of a happy life or twenty years of impossible and delightful passion? If I want to consider all this and punish myself for what I did and did not do, then he promises to give me such an opportunity. I think he knew that I understand him.  
\- But I don’t understand at all.  
\- He asked if I would like to escort the remains of Cersei to Casterly Rock. He said that if I want solitude and peace, he will give us a divorce, his royal permission, you see. That then I will be able, on his orders, to rule the Western Lands, and save you all from my presence, from my shattering thoughts, and my bitter, poisonous self-humiliation. He said you could survive this.  
Brienne stood up and went to the fire. She felt colder. She hugged herself with both hands and immediately the wound in her shoulder began to ache. Jaime drank more wine.

\- He asked me if I knew about other roads that our destinies follow. I said that anyone who at least once survives the battle knows this. He said that on one of these roads, having lost me, you became the Lord Commander of the Kings Guard, he gave you this position. That you were shocked by the loss, but did your duty, and not once, he told me - not once - did not let anyone know how you felt. He asked if I believe in such a fate. I replied that it sounds ridiculous and... not much like you. No, of course, you are a knight, and the best of all I know, but your heart is soft, gentle, you are smart... you are not one of those who, having rejected themselves, serve the kings, like a dog on a chain. And then he said something... He said that people, making choices, change their roads. But the roads they follow change the people too.

He paused, and then she felt the touch of his fingers on her neck, under her pinned-up hair. Brienne started, she did not hear he approached, or she was too immersed in her woeful thoughts.

\- Have I changed, he asked me, - Jaime said quietly. He ran his fingertips over her skin.

\- What did you answer? - Brienne asked, startled. - What did you say to him?

\- That I only hope our next King will be smarter. He laughed and said it would be my son. And that I must do everything for him to be smarter than our Brocken King. I am his father, and I’ll always remain... I left him in the most terrible mood. I went here and thought that I do not want to remain only a father to my children, I want to remain your husband.

He did not lower his hand. His fingers were hot and dry.

\- I think he threw this seed of anger and doubt in me so that I could decide on my own. He plays with people, like with figures on board, but does it smartly and cunningly. And yet there is always truth in his words.

Brienne silently lowered her hands and stood, not turning to him.

\- I love you, - Jaime said casually and calmly as if asking for a wine or a cloak. - I love you and I wish to end my days next to you. Let me be wrong again. And again I will look not for redemption, but only for my happiness, but this is my choice, and I don't need his fucking wise speeches and thoughtful advice.

He laid a hand on her waist and turned her toward him. They undressed slowly, and made love with the same leisureliness, gently, very carefully, and Jaime treated her as a fragile figurine or the greatest treasure. 

Lying in bed and listening to the sound of rain after, she ran her fingers over his face and felt that it was wet from tears. 

\- Jaime? What is it?  
\- Nothing. Sleep. Let's fall asleep, we need strength for tomorrow. And for many more days in this place...

He kissed the tips of her fingers.

\- Jaime. You are crying.  
\- It just seems to you…

He grunted as she removed her hand.

\- No, Brienne, it doesn't seem. I became old, and tears flow beyond my will.  
\- What did he say? What else did he tell you?

She rose on her elbow, trying to look into his eyes.

Jaime lay looking at the ceiling. Heat emanated from his body, she wanted to snuggle up to him and close her eyes and fall asleep indeed, forgetting all the anxieties.

\- He said that we should let the children go. The time has come for farewell. 

Brienne silently poked her forehead into his shoulder.

\- A man, he said, needs oceans and rivers, forests and valleys. The roads. Those who live a dream, who are not afraid to follow it, are responsible for themselves. They will go far, their paths are unknown, and perhaps they will never return...

Brienne suddenly more than anything wanted to him not to proceed. She squeezed her fingers on the pillow, crumpling the delicate silk.

\- He said, the distant stars will shine upon and will remind us of those who have left.

Spring came to the city when almonds bloomed, and these pink and white petals were circling in the air, and the sun-lit streets coming to life with the dawn, became noisy and colorful. Ships in the harbors lined up in rows, letting guests in from all over the world, and sending people to all coasts of the earth. It was time for trade and travel, and winter storms gave way to summer roads.

Her children were lined up on a jetty, and she looked at them with greedy, vain hope. A man needs roads, needs oceans, valleys, and forests, she thought in despair. Jaime hugged Arthur and touched his forehead with his lips.

\- Promise you will be back. Not to me, promise it to your mother ...  
\- Father, - Arthur wrapped his fingers around Jaime's face and smiled so dazzlingly, with the arrogance of youth and with the tenderness of son. - I promised that I would return Dara to the forest kingdom, and I will fulfill the vow. They helped us, and I will not leave them. Never again. We will travel, we will go as far as we can. We will go east and find out that is there, further, where no one has ever been. I will become their defense. And they are my guides. I always wanted it, I just didn't know I do.  
Jaime took Dara's hand, pulling her close to him, and said something quietly. Catelyn squinted at her mother.

\- What is he talking there?

Brienne smiled nervously.  
\- I don't know, kitten.  
\- Hey! Don't call me that.

\- My people will be happy to accept Arthur Lannister as our commander and then as our ruler. He deserves to rule, and we deserve him. Let the light of the seven stars be with you, - Dara said seriously. - It will never fade away. Goodbye, Lord Lannister.

Arthur hugged all the sisters, and then the twins and Podrick. Podrick grabbed his brother by the neck as if he did not want to let go. Then, approaching his mother, Arthur stopped and looked at her with the attentive gaze of these blue eyes.

\- Will you look after father while we are gone? He needs you. And you need him.

Brienne wrapped his beautiful face in her palms and kissed his temple.

\- Promise me, that you will be back.

\- I promise that I will remember you. I will never forget any of you.

He turned to Dara, took her small hand, and they strode to the ship. Light, like the wind, a girl with yellow eyes, and a tall, handsome knight dressed in golden armor.

Brienne wanted to catch up with them and hug, talk, persuade - but she only clasped her hands under the cloak.

\- Someone of the Lannisters has always to travel East, - Gerion murmured.  
\- This time, not you, - Galladon told him.  
\- Enough for me of East and North. I gave them my legs.  
\- Good thing, not your brains.

They laughed identically, with this bitter, sad and short laugh.

Someone signaled from the Northern ship, and Sansa hastily turned to her parents:

\- I promise I'll be back. I promise you that. Please, come to Winterfell. We will see each other again. We... Birds fly high. Birds know everything... Oh, mama!

She burst into tears. Cat went up to her and gently hugged her and stroked her long braids.

\- Hey, what are you doing, little bird, - she muttered. - You must become happy. Do you hear me? Everything will be fine.

\- We will make the most splendid and big wedding in the North, - Ans said solemnly. - We will not hide our love. I don’t want to hide anymore.

Jaime gave him an incredulous look but held out his hand. The blackbird jumped from Ans's shoulder to his palm, and the twins giggled. A white necklace gleamed on the dark feather robe, like a maester chain.

\- This bird will fly with my news, - Sansa smiled weakly. - And if you miss me, just come North, beyond the Wall. I will be happy to see you. I love you, father. I love you, mama, so much, you probably will never know.

Brienne started to weep.

The ship to the White Harbor was already disbanding its sails, and both Sansa and Ans finally ran to the gangway, and Brienne saw the disheveled, ever-red Tormund's head on the deck. He was waving for her frantically. Brienne raised her hand. Jon Snow watched calmly at the running couple and the Tarth family behind them. 

Still crying, she hugged Theona Greyjoy. The girl cautiously answered the hug, patting Brienne on the shoulder.

\- I will stand up for her, Lady Lannister. Everywhere, ever and at any cost.

Jaime hugged his youngest daughter tightly. She poked her forehead into his jacket. He kissed her blue hair, closed his eyes and stood like that for some time.

\- Why don't you paint them a new color? - hardly restraining her tears, obviously trying to distract and be distracted, Joanna uttered.  
\- I love blue. This is the color of the sea. Of Tarth. Come here, - Cat held out her hands, and her sister embraced the narrow shoulders and stroked the blue strands. - Is all this too much for you?

Joanna sobbed and shook her head covered with a gray shawl:

\- There is no “too much ”when it comes to you and your life. You will always be my sweet youngest sister. I will always worry. But what I want is you to be happy. Only this is important, all right? Remember this.

\- We'll meet again. We will definitely meet each other someday. People of the sea can travel wherever they want. If I see the stars hanging low like apples, I promise I will rip one for you.

Podrick hugged her and raised her high, swirling in place. Cat yelped and slapped him lightly on the broad shoulder.

\- Hey, giant, stop it! It is time for us to go! The ships go west, so we need to hurry. We need to overtake the last storms.

She and Theona went aboard the ship and all who stayed turned to Podrick in awkward silence.

\- Oh for the sake of dear Gods! If you start to cry now, mama, - he began jokingly, but Joanna gingerly clasped his face.  
\- You've always wanted to leave Tarth. Is it hard for you? Will you be happy staying there, big brother?  
\- I’m good. Do not cry over me, silent sister. I feel good and I will be happy. People can change, - he retorted calmly. - Am I right, father? Mother?  
Jaime and Brienne exchanged glances.  
\- You will become the greatest ruler of Tarth, - Gerion remarked gravely.  
\- Did your King say that?  
\- I say that. Take care of our home. May its lights never go out.

Brienne stroked Podrick through the flax-white strands and braids. He wore the new hair-do proudly (as his new and old tattoos) after another encounter with port barbers.

\- Your grandfather would be proud of you. You inherit Tarth and the Evenfall Hall, you will glorify our lands, and you will not fail us.

\- Help Big Ape to rule the Roost, and make sure the vultures do not fly back to the Connington estate. You know what to do if that happens, right? - Jaime smiled carefully.

\- Yes, father. I know. Come here.

He grabbed his father into a bear hug, and Brienne suddenly saw how huge he was. Podrick said something to Jaime, and again the low-key words were hidden between the two. He leaned over and kissed his father on the forehead, and Brienne saw that the first tear rolled down her husband's cheek.

When he left, throwing his huge saddlebag over his shoulder, Gerion said:

\- He will be all right. He will not stay lonely. He will find a wife, mother. You worry in vain. Give him time. Some fall in love with great difficulty, but after then they can never stop loving.

\- I did not know you are so wise, - Galladon snorted.

\- I could have stayed a fool like you, but no. What a lucky guy I am. I deceived my fate.

\- Boys, that's enough of jests, - Jaime said grimly. 

He turned to Joanna. She said something to Big Ape, then took his big hand in both her palms and gripped patiently.

\- As you please, my lady, - he answered stubbornly. - I believe that you should not leave a place that remembers him. Someone should be there, for him.

\- I will always remember, - Joanna said quietly. – I took his name and this place is mine now. It is in my heart. I will never forget him and you, Big Ape. 

The servant approached leading the gray mare. Joanna easily, swiftly saddled up. Her gray cloak, gray dress and gray shawl all seemed woven of fog and doubt. Brienne helplessly touched her daughter’s knee.

\- Listen to me. Joanna! I know that you've decided it all firmly, but maybe, just maybe...

\- I’ve decided so, and I'm glad my friends helped me find this way.

She glanced back at Sam Tarley and Tyrion standing by, at Podrick Payne, who came up to them.

\- I will be completely safe; the best knights are with me and the Lord Commander himself. We will escort her body to Casterly Rock, and I will pray for her. And then I will go to Motherhouse in Oldtown. Maester Tarley promised that they would give me access to some libraries in Citadel. The rules for women are changed. There are a lot of books. There is so much to read and to learn. I could only dream of that.

Tyrion came closer. Jaime looked at him apprehensively.

\- Your daughter has chosen her path, - he said without a smile. - Let her go. And let her fulfill her duty to the family if she considers it necessary. Ser Payne and the knights will provide her with excellent protection.

\- First of all. My daughter should not have become septa, - Jaime said, grimacing. - She has never even actually prayed. And I do not want her to pray for Cersei.

\- But Joanna loved Septa Marona, - Galladon observed quietly. - And septa loved her back. Maybe our sister needs it? Not for the Gods, but only for herself?

Joanna leaned gracefully, easily, and the sword tinkled at her saddle.

\- I'm sorry I didn’t tell you for so long what I've decided. I was afraid you would not understand me. That you would want to dissuade me. This is not a whim or a vain, or bitterness. This is my road. Father? Don't worry about me. You don't have to be anxious anymore.

Brienne looked helplessly at her husband. Jaime wiped his cheek with the stump, in such a boyish and desperate gesture. He turned away, and Tyrion let him pass, and Jaime went to the far edge of the pier, where dark water splashed quietly.

\- Joanna, I love you, your father loves you more than anything, and we are...

\- You are the first septa with a Valyrian sword, - Galladon grinned.

\- Thank you for your kind words, little brother. Do you know what they called you in the prophecies? - she looked down with an affectionate smile. – Oh! Gerion knows. 

\- Valonqar, - Gerion sneered. - And there were no prophecies, only fables, and legends of unfulfilled ones. But the septa with the Valyrian sword will stay forever in their beautiful southern songs.

\- Take care of each other, my little princes. You are way wiser than all of us, so you are responsible for all the Lannisters in the world.

She turned the horse around and spurred it. Suddenly, she looked back and, without slowing down, gazed into her father's eyes.

\- The light of seven stars, father! They will always shine for you.

She turned away, the horse went faster, and soon a thin, gray-wrapped figure disappeared into the motley port streets. Podrick Payne hurriedly hopped into the saddle and rushed after her.

Gerion gently touched his brother's arm.

\- We need to go back to the castle. The King wants to lesson us.

\- Will you always be inseparable like now? - Tyrion grinned with a somewhat exaggerated curiosity. Brienne noticed that he quickly wiped his eyes and took a gilded flask off his belt.

\- Yes, - Gerion answered calmly. - There are two of us. I'm not alone and never will be. Do you remember what you called our King on the day first? The Broken King? Following him, the Two-faced King will rule.

Tyrion stared at them in amazement.

\- Oh, - he said finally. - Oh, well, I...  
\- Someone in our family should have been glad that Lannister would sit on the throne. But you, Uncle Tyrion, are rather discouraged.  
\- Who am I to object?  
\- Our best Hand?  
\- The smartest of the Lannisters?  
\- The Great Imp of the Two-Faced King?

Tyrion shifted his quick, piercing gaze from one to the other, and then unscrewed the lid of the flask, sighed, and took a long sip.

Brienne knelt to look into her son's face.

\- How are you feeling, sweetling?  
\- It's all right, mother, - he stroked her wet cheek with such a nagging tenderness that she again wanted to cry. - You're sad, I know. Your sorrow is so great. Will you trust someone who is just learning to know everything? I want to assure you, from now on everything going to be fine. Now take me home.

Galladon pushed his chair, and the whole procession moved away - the guard, and Tyrion, and the lords, and the soldiers, and Grandmaster Tarley, and the court ladies, and their daughters casting curious and predatory glances at Galladon. He is still too small, Brienne thought involuntarily. But she knew that the time would come for proposals and alliances, and she winced at this thought in advance.

Jaime went up to her and stood beside. The ship of the Iron Islands was turning in the harbor, passing the northerners ship. The Tyroshi ship sailing to Braavos and then New Ibbish has already departed from the pier, as well as the Tarth ships.

Jaime put an arm around her shoulders:

\- Let's go home? 

The city was too big for them, too noisy and sordid to call it “home”.  
There were too many people, courtiers, animals, ships, soldiers, fuss and brothels. Rumors and gossip, someone’s intrigues, deals, gold and the King taking her sons as heirs... He stole them from me, sometimes she thought with bitterness. He stole two at once, without dividing them, without leaving us a one. He called her children a gift to himself. She hated this city, as did Jaime. Here her happiest life began and here it has ended.  
Sometimes the cries of seagulls or the swirling eastern wind, the smell of alien flowers and distant lands awakened an endless, frantic and dark sadness. Her longing for those who left was so deep and as vast as sky or ocean. She wanted to plead an audience with King Bran and beg him to tell her their fate, to calm her and comfort her, or to open the future, whatever it was. But she never dared to ask even her son.

To get rid of anxiety, she went out into the streets and walked the noisy shops, along the quays in the harbors, went into the newly built septa and prayed, but she did it absent-mindedly and angrily. Sometimes she rode astride, and letting her horse roam the roads in the gardens and fields, she started to weep or just watched around aimlessly.

Jaime felt her disconsolate longing, and he became very gentle and attentive to her. But, feeling gratitude, reciprocal tenderness and still desperately loving him, she could not relieve this grief. Sadness followed her like a cloak, wrapped her shoulders and hid her from the world.

A few weeks after her children's departure, when Brienne was sitting at the table, sorting out the letters, she heard a knock on the door. Without taking her eyes off Joanna's handwriting, so beloved and so familiar, she responded:

\- Come in.

\- We have a guest. Someone wants to greet you. - Jaime pushed the door with his shoulder. He smiled uncertainly.

Two appeared at the door. Dothraki, the one who once drove her through the Grass Sea, and a girl in a dark blue cloak. Her frightened gaze darted through the large room, through the velvet curtains and armchairs, and the couches, and the fireplace and the patterns on the walls - and stopped at Brienne.  
She slowly rose from the table, and the scrolls fell to the floor with a quiet gentle rustle. Somewhere outside the window, a bird began to sing, subtly and piercingly, almost choking on a single note.

Brienne opened her mouth to say something - and could not utter a word. 

\- This is a gift from Khal Hosho, - the Dothraki said. - I'm from Khal Hosho too. Your husband sent for her, and I bring her here to you. Her name is…

\- Theya. Oh, Gods, I'm so happy to see you alive and... and...

\- I requested to find her. Fortunately, I have friends in Tyrosh and Pentos who helped me, - Jaime said, smiling now broadly in response to her bewildered joy. - And you have all the Khal Hosho's sympathy. 

Theya timidly looked up at her:

\- I ran away when they killed him. I took your coins and ran, and hid on the streets.  
\- Forgive me. I shouldn't have... Oh, Theya, I'm so to blame. It was my fault. I failed you and your brother. I am so, so sorry. For what they did to him, and for what I had done to you...

\- But it wasn't you who killed him, - Theya answered gravely and calmly. - Not you.

Brienne hugged her hastily, shyly, and then released her from the embrace. Theya remained standing close, her fingers nervously fingering the edge of the cloak.

\- He told me to give it to you, - the Dothraki handed Brienne a golden hairpin. - He say now he not need it, because now he not cry for you. You alive.  
\- Have you learned the language?  
\- He tell me, - the young man said frowningly. - Khal say we must understand everyone, this make us stronger.  
\- Khal Hosho is a wise man, - Brienne took the pin and caught Jaime's gaze. He raised an eyebrow. – Tell him I am gratitude endlessly. I will never forget all he has done for me and my family.

When the men left, she sat the girl in a chair and very carefully, as if afraid to frighten her, brought her water, bread, fruits, and cakes. Theya's gaze was hungry, and her fingers were trembling slightly.

\- Please eat, - Brienne said.

While Theya chewed and swallowed, she looked at her. How could she not notice this resemblance? She looked like all her children at once, and Jaime, and Cersei, but still unlike anyone of them. Her eyes were probably her father's, and none of the Lannisters had such eyes - almond-shaped and serene, velvet-deep, blue with a delicate violet tint, with a hidden sadness at the very bottom, in the shadow of curved eyelashes.  
\- Have you lived on the street all this time?  
\- Yes, my lady.  
\- Theya, please listen to me. Would you like to stay here? With me?  
Theya was silent. Then she dropped her hand with a bitten cake and simply stared at Brienne's face.

\- We don’t need anything from you, - Brienne said, suddenly reading that look. – No, no. We do not need servants or... or... we do not need you to serve us. We just want you to... so you can find your home. I know who your mother was. And I also know who was the father. There are people, far from here, in the city of Saath, the Tagaez Fen city, who can testify to your father’s name. Princess Jahata Alexy survived the war, and she will stand for you in a great Lorath council.

\- Lorath?

\- Your father was a Lorathi. Perhaps everything will turn out so that you will inherit the entire fortune, and there is much. But as long as you wish, you could stay with us. Until you decide that you want to go there. We will not interfere with you. We will help you if you want to go to Lorath.

Theya licked crumbs from her lips and looked somewhere behind Brienne.

\- She died?

Brienne sighed. She leaned over and carefully took the girl's wet fingers into her hand.

\- I am so sorry. Yes. She died. As your father. Both are dead. Someday people will tell you more, but for now, I want you just to know one thing. She loved you. Both you and Theos. She loved you and... when you were born, she did not wish you harm. Everything else was just a set of mistakes. All people make mistakes, Theya. I've made them. And your parents. And your brother. This is the way the world was created.

\- It's him? - Theya asked fearfully. - The one you were looking for? I saw him in Volantis. You asked me about him, and that's him! He met me here. The lame, one-armed man who raped the hanged girl...

\- He did not, - Brienne said softly. - If you wish, I will tell you the truth. 

She brushed a strand away from the girl's cheek.

\- I don't know anything, - Theya confessed. - Nothing. I can do a lot. I knew how I could... but that's not what you want. And when Theos died, I... I could no longer serve, I am alone, I have no one...

Brienne's heart sank.

\- Stay here, Theya. There has been enough of sorrow and pain in your life. And I am not ordering you, I invite. Stay. A friend of mine once told me: everyone should have a home.

She felt lonely and lost, and powerless after her children were gone. But with Theya's advent, Brienne sensed her strength slowly returning. Sometimes she smiled just because of joy, not through the will-force. And sometimes she wanted to yell at her husband or at her small guest, and she, restraining herself, suddenly realized that life in her was boiling again, the life itself, with all these petty adversities, irritability, and impatience.

Theya was afraid of loud sounds and big voices, of swords clangs and horse stomping, of crowds and armored men, and even more she was afraid of Jaime. After a couple of weeks, she could laugh in response to Brienne’s joke and she chatted with the maids, and gathered the first crop of early cherries in the garden.

But at the sight of Jaime, she always stood frozen and watched him, almost without blinking, with a poorly hidden hostility and sometimes with open hatred. Brienne for a long time could not succeed in convincing her he is harmless.

However, no one expected quick success. What did Theya Vgaar know from the men, and especially the men with weapons, through all her years? Beatings, humiliation, an endless chain of violence. Jaime understood this very well. He was restrained, polite, calm and courteous with her, and cautious and patient. 

And yet his kindness and generous attitude gradually thawed her heart. Once he said something jokingly stupid at family dinner, and while the twins were rolling with laughter, Brienne furtively glanced at Theya and saw that she, too, covered her mouth with a napkin and smiled.

One morning Brienne was awakened by a terrible roar. There was a clatter of broken plates and crystal. Something fell on the stone floor with a soft slap. The bedroom door was open, but Jaime was not in bed. Brienne sat up and hastily groped for a robe.

\- Seventh Hell! - someone growled at the gallery.

She went out, hurriedly pulling the robe over her nightgown, and Jaime shouted:

\- No more step, wench! There is broken glass everywhere.  
\- What's going on here?

The floor was littered with shards and leftover food. Broken fruit exuded juice and a delicate aroma. The air smelled of oranges and herbal tea.

Brienne drew back her foot, as she had already stepped forward. With a hiss, she pulled out a piece of glass that stuck between her toes. 

\- Where's the maid? Why is there so much food?

She threw the shard away and leaned over to press down the wound. When she raised her head, her gaze rested on Theya's pale face. The girl trembled, stretching out her arm. There was a small and probably useless dagger in her hand, the Gods only knew where she got it. The girl looked shaken, she newly awoke,and was dressed only in a nightgown and a shawl.

\- And what are you doing here? - Jaime noticed the girl. - Hey! These are not toys. Put your weapon down, Theya.

The girl slowly approached him but did not lower her hand.

\- Jaime! What happened? 

\- Yesterday our cook arrived from Tarth, Podrick sent him to us, remember? I ordered him your favorite pies, and I wanted... ah, damn, - Jaime shook the fruit spray off his shirt, - I wanted to serve your breakfast while you were in bed. I've sent the maids out, ordered them not to interfere with us. I…

Brienne giggled softly. She imagined him overturning the tray, and everything is flying around, including the famous Tarth pies, and a very stupid, hysterical, but indomitable glee came over her.

Jaime squatted down, picked up some scraps, and then shook his fingers.

\- By the way, - he said seriously. - There is still a bit left.

Brienne was already fully leaning against the wall; laughter was breaking through her, mixed with tears. Theya glanced blankly from her at Jaime and back.

\- Put the dagger down, Theya, - Brienne ordered, shaking with giggles. – Please. Forgive him. Jaime was not going to do anything bad to me. He just wanted to be nice.

\- Yes, I did, - Jaime grunted stubbornly. - So this is the price of being nice to people. A dagger and laughter! Not sure what is worse.

Theya finally lowered her weapon. Very timidly she crouched next to Jaime and picked up the fallen orange.

\- Here. I will help. Ser Jaime. I can help you!

Jaime looked into her face with a long, attentive look.

\- Theya, - he said finally when she did not dare to look him in the eye. - Have you ever eaten that? I swear this is the tastiest thing in the world.

He took one of the surviving pies from the small basket, broke it in halves, and handed one half to the girl. Brienne expected her to stagger back or stand up and run away, but after a shy pause, she took the pie. For several minutes, both thoughtfully, peacefully chewed, looking at each other.

Brienne snorted.

\- Eating right off the floor, huh? And of course, you left me nothing!

Gradually they got used to each other. Theya ceased to be afraid and avoided him, and Jaime began to treat her like his child, manifesting himself the same, excessively caring and anxious father, the same he always has been to his daughters.

The garden in their small courtyard was tiny, but neat, well-groomed, like all Red Castle gardens. It consisted only of the pines, small cherry alley, trimmed bushes, and several flower beds.

With the onset of late spring, when the days became too hot for city walks, Brienne started to spend her time in this garden. She just sat on a bench, in an open-work shade, looking at butterflies and birds, sorting through book pages, sometimes without reading a word. The wind swayed the strands of her hair, and the silence around became almost blessed.

Once, turning her head, she noticed that several rose bushes lowered their leaves and dropped buds. Slowly, with slight disgust, she got up and walked over. Holding up the bud with her two fingers, she saw that the flower had just prepared to bloom. The rose was once luxurious, scarlet and yellow, with pinkish streaks on the delicate petals.

She called the gardener, and, after listening to him, returned into the rooms. She put on her leather gloves and then took the bucket of warm water that the maid had already brought. The other maid brought a handful of ash in her hem. Brienne stirred the ash in the water and went to the roses.

There Jaime has found her. She was all over smeared with ash, soil, green, and she felt tired, clumsy and unskillful, but at the same time very appeased and calm.

\- Brienne, darling? What are you doing?

\- These rose bushes wilted, - she blew a strand of hair off her cheek.

\- I thought you hate roses, - he said after a long and surprised pause.

She got up and looked at him point-blank. Theya came up, watching what she was doing, and then silently went off to the gardener's house. She returned wearing thick gloves, tying an apron around her waist.

\- Oh, this is good. Sweetling, please, help me, let's dig this bush out. This one, - Brienne showed her the next poor fellow. - We will transfer them in there. Take a spatula, it’s handier.

Jaime smirked:

\- Are you going to save these roses? You can't stand them. And in appearance, they are dying.

Brienne turned to him. And at this moment she felt her dark sadness melted, an invisible heavy cloak was slipping off her shoulders. 

She smiled tranquilly back to him, squinting, watching him stand against the sun: the same tall and charming Jaime Lannister, gray-haired now but still handsome.

\- I don’t want anything anymore to die next to me. Today or ever. 

The look of his laughing eyes became serious. And then he pulled a camisole from his shoulder, throwing it on the grass, and took a bucket. He silently left and returned with water. 

The rose bushes came to life and bloomed a few days later, who knows, thanks to their inept care or contrary to it.

\- The roads we choose, - Jaime remarked, looking at the flower heads with farsighted attention. – These roads can change us. That’s true.

\- Look, oh, they are so beautiful! Why do you hate roses? - Theya exclaimed. 

Brienne touched the tender petals and looked up. Flocks of birds swirled over the garden and castle, the sky was dark-blue and boundless. The wind shook the branches of the old pine, tracing their faces with shadows and light. She hugged Theya, pressed her for a moment into her shoulder and let go. 

\- Perhaps, I don't. It has been once upon a time. Far away. In another life.

\- And now you're having the other life? 

We're all having, she thought. You're having it too.

Jaime touched her cheek. 

\- Brienne, my dearest wife. You are the savior of the beautiful maidens, cities, islands, innocents, knights, and kids and even rosebushes. But. What's for dinner? 

She snorted, and then just tacitly wrapped her fingers over his palm. 

Brienne Lannister, the daughter of Tarth, lived several different lives. Strangely, the happiest one began in this hateful city.  
As if he heard her thought, Jaime stroked her hand. His thumb ran down her wrist with that familiar, reassuring and tender motion.

Now there is a new life ahead, and perhaps the last.  
And yet, she stubbornly thought, we will live it happily.

\--The end--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all my readers, for your greatest support and warm words, and true emotions. I feel so grateful, I want to hug everyone who had read my story. I know, there are many mistakes, incorrect word usage, and so on. It was hard for me to write it down in English, it was the biggest challenge in my life. And yet I've tried, and I actually do not sorry. This summer was the greatest for me because of Jaime, Brienne, this fanfiction adventures and everything. This story healed me in so many ways. Thank you, thank you, thank you.  
> Now, something personal I want to share. Not sure anybody will read it, so I feel pretty free to tell. This year, January, my mom passed away. I’ve been in such deep depression and I had a strong PTSD (as she had cancer and her last mounths were sheer hell for her and for me, and I was the only caregiver). I want to cry even thinking of those times. I feel so sad and I feel guilty, I can not explain why. We always feel guilty for those we could not save, I guess. Long story short, I had depression, PTSD, and I felt an emptiness inside, a void. I felt numb, I felt like I want to die. I wanted to go after my mom. 
> 
> I’ve always loved to write stories and fanfiction, I loved to be in fandoms and to love pairings, and to read discussions, and to make videos, pictures, etc. 
> 
> Jaime/Brienne, or better to say GOT08, has became the first thing I was interested again and I’ve wanted to watch this year. Strangely, as much as I felt anger and pain after the last episode, I had also that feeling, you know, when you want to re-write and fix something, so badly you can not stop until you do. I’ve started to create this story inside my mind, and then I’ve started to write down the story, it turned out too long, and full of original characters, and I just could not stop myself. I wrote it down, and suddenly I felt my grieve and sorrow, well, have not gone away but… faded, retreated. As if somebody gave me a chance to breathe again, to think of something except my loss, to think of someone else, to focus on someone else’s stories. My anxiety and longing were subdued too. It was a healing process. I know, there is more to do, and the creating process can not heal you fully, completely, but it helped so much, it helped a lot. 
> 
> I will never forget those who helped me in this way. My readers. my great and supporting readers. My friend, who told me I believe it will help, I believe in you. Jaime and Brienne, too. Thank you, my guardian angels. 
> 
> And for those who maybe feel the grieve today, and do not know how to live further, how to cope, I want to say: there will be better days, the pain will not always be so strong, just please live and struggle, fight for youself, and don’t be afraid to do anything that helps you. I am still far from bliss, from happy days, but all can say is that we all deserve to become happy one day. To live happily.


End file.
